#One piece x reader

[shy-writer-999]

It's getting hot in here...

Summary: After a nice meal, you start to feel weird. Did you eat something funny? It turns out everyone is feeling the same, and there's only one thing to do about it. Read content warnings please!

CW: Lots of nasty sex. Afab reader, G/N language. Aphrodisiacs. TONS of zosan gay shit (like 50% of this fic). Could be considered dubcon because the aphrodisiacs are strong and reader keeps losing touch with reality, but it is consensual >_> Voyerusim, dacryphilia, begging, dry humping, edging, masturbation, "good boy," riding, prone bone, you name it. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS (VERY) NSFW CONTENT.

Something was in the water at the new island the Sunny anchored on. Or was it in the wine? The bread? The butter? You couldn’t remember what you ate. Your memory of the night was blurred—scattered scenes played through your mind the next day. Your recollection was… messy and nonsensical. You tried to recount the night.

In the early hours of the night in question, Sanji went into the island’s town to get supplies and ingredients for dinner. It was a nice day full of free time, clear skies with a slight breeze.

Nami and Robin went shopping and they wouldn’t be back on the ship in time for dinner. Brook, Usopp, Chopper, and Franky went off and did god knows what. Similarly, they wouldn’t be back in time for the evening meal. Sanji promised to make enough so they could have leftovers later.

When everyone went on their separate outings, that left you, Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji on the ship.

It was a small, simple, and delicious dinner that night. An intimate setting with just you four, a nice opportunity to hang out with part of the East Blue crew. You were soaking in some modicum of silence and peace (whenever Luffy allowed it) on the mostly empty ship.

Aside from Luffy’s chomping and smacking noises while he ate, dinner was relatively silent. Sanji and Zoro weren’t butting heads for once, either. You sat at the table, talked sparingly, and drank some of the wine that Sanji bought in town.

When dinner was over, you helped Sanji wash up (like usual), then you sat at the dinner table and did some reading.

An hour or so passed. You read your book while Sanji prepped food and cleaned the kitchen a few feet away. Gradually, the room got warmer. You opened a window, letting in some of the cool evening air, propped a door open, and sat back down again.

After a few minutes, you noticed that you felt a bit ill. Lightly perspiring, you almost shivered—your limbs felt heavy, you felt light-headed. You tried to reason it away. Did you have too much wine?

No, you didn’t. You stood up, and as you rose to your feet you realized that you felt like you were going to pass out. At the same time, your body started to buzz. You had never felt like this before. Something was seriously off.

Sanji was still in the kitchen cleaning up, and you staggered in his direction, stopping at the sink to splash some water on your face. The cold water felt great on your hot cheeks, and you could have sworn you saw steam rise up from where the cool droplets met your skin.

“My love, are you alright?” Sanji’s sweet voice shocked you out of your feverish stupor. You had almost forgotten he was there. When you turned to face him, your body pulsed and heat tingled outwards from between your legs, radiating to your whole body. He had never looked so good before.

The blonde’s eyes widened in shock—your pupils were dilated, your breathing was shallow and quick, and your face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He brought a hand to your forehead and confirmed that you had a fever. “Are you sick, dearest? You don’t look well.”

When his skin touched yours, your breath hitched. “Sanji, I don’t feel too good.”

“Do you need to go lay down? I’ll get Chopper to come take your temperature and give you something to help you feel better, okay?”

You didn’t know it, but Sanji was starting to feel ill, too. He was sweating just barely and had, up until that point, been blaming it on the fact that he just cooked and cleaned and was a bit exhausted. But what was more concerning to him was that in your feverish state you looked even more beautiful than usual—no, beautiful wasn’t the right word. In his mind he remarked that you looked fucking hot. Stunning. Sexy, even.

He could rip your clothes off here and now and ravage you, had you been up for it. But that sentiment wasn’t necessarily out of the norm, rather, it was that you were evidently sick, and he was starting to feel a bit woozy himself.

Maybe the food had turned, and he didn’t realize it, so you were both suffering from food poisoning. But that would have been very unlike him to not pick up on the food tasting rotten. It must have been something else. Did you both pick up some virus from the last island you were on? Like Nami on Little Garden that one time?

A soft whine slipped out of your lips. The noise made his stomach flip. You sounded like you were in pain but… you also sounded a bit erotic to him. In this state, his mind raced. Is that what you would sound like in bed? Whining like that?

Sanji mentally berated himself more than ever before, letting self-disgust wash over for a moment before he shook it off. When he got back to his senses (he had been staring at you for only a couple of seconds), he started to guide you to your cabin for some rest. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you to bed.”

But no matter how many internal curses he threw at himself, he felt a tent forming in his pants. Something weird was happening.

He balked at the idea that seeing you in your current state was getting him so flustered. You were ill, after all. What sort of gentleman would he be right now, if he was thirsting over you while you had a dangerously high fever and were obviously in pain?

As he tried to shrug off how odd he was starting to feel, the blonde chef guided you down the hallway and towards your room. You walked behind him and your vision started to get splotchy. With every degree your fever worsened, you felt something get more intense—was this feeling arousal? At a time like this?  

Sure enough, heat bloomed between your legs; small zaps of pleasure radiated

outwards with each step. The arousal-sickness combination was disorienting and concerning.

And not only were you just aroused, but it was coupled with wild sensitivity—as you moved, the fabric of your pants brushed down there, sending an electric shock up your spine as the tingling sensation intensified. Were you hallucinating, or was wetness seeping out of your core, saturating your panties?

The walk down the hallway felt like years.

By the time you were almost to your bed, you were soaking wet from nothing other than walking. You tried to squeeze your legs together. Was there a stain on your pants from how unreasonably wet you were? Should you hide it? The fabric of your pants was rubbing you just right, and, in the moment you sat on the bed, you convulsed in pleasure. Undeniably, you moaned. A quiet one, but a moan, no less.

You sat there for a few seconds, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as you positively buzzed in pleasure. You didn’t know what was happening, and you were unaware that you were slowly rubbing your thighs together, drawing out more tingles of pleasure. Was that an orgasm?

Sanji’s mind was racing, and he was hyperaware of everything—every shallow breath and flutter of your eyes was making his heart patter and the tent in his pants grow. He was fully erect now, and his mind was so scrambled that he didn’t even think of hiding it. He almost couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

It was from this point on that you started to question if any of this was real or if you were just having a fever dream.

Sanji stood over you, watching in what could be called a mixture of concern and rabid desire. Your eyes opened finally, and it felt like you had tunnel vision. You noticed it then—his erection, hard and big. There was a visible stain on his bulge where precum pooled into the fabric. His cock twitched when he realized your eyes were focused on it.

“A-are you okay?” Sanji asked. He didn’t know what to say. He needed to drag himself away to a bathroom and deal with this.

His words got caught in his throat as your body literally worked against your own whims. Your fingers moved like they were being controlled by a puppeteer—you watched them in third person as they trailed down your abdomen and came to rest over your throbbing core.

Looking up at him, you gave yourself a squeeze through your pants. Some erotic sound tumbled from your lips. Your fingers started to circle over the fabric of your pants where your clit must have been, and you spread your thighs a bit. You couldn’t control yourself.

“Help, Sanji,” you whispered, mouth dry. “Don’t know what’s happening. Can’t stop.” Your fingers moved faster, building a crescendo of pleasure that would crash onto you soon. You felt like you were going crazy with need. No longer focused on the fever wracking your body, your mind knew only one thing: you needed pleasure.

If you didn’t get more soon, you were worried you’d pass out. Or something would happen. Would you go crazy?

“H-help?” Sanji’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“Touch me,” you whimpered, fingers moving faster now. His jaw dropped.

Luffy suddenly staggered to the door and leaned on the frame. He was unbothered by the sight in front of him and, quite frankly, he looked a damn mess. His hair was plastered down on his forehead in sweat, he had no shirt on, and his pajama pants were riding down, showing the band of his boxers.

“Guys,” Luffy’s voice was strained. “I feel really weird.”

Your eyes darted down. Luffy was rock hard, bulge standing out against the gray fabric of his pants. His cloudy vision came to rest on your chest. With no care in the world, one of his hands reached down to start rubbing himself.

“It won’t go away no matter what I do,” Luffy rubbed the heel of his hand down the outline of his erection, and his words were broken by a loud grunt. “I came here to ask for help but it—it looks like you beat me to it.” He cracked a grimace/smile and threw his head back after a moment, leaning his whole weight on the door frame as he touched himself through the fabric.

You snuck a hand into your pants. Brushing your clit gently, you keened. You were on autopilot, incapable of controlling your actions and not the most cognizant. All you knew was you needed more, and if you didn’t get more, something bad would happen.

“Mmmphhhh,” Luffy stifled a groan as he squeezed himself, lost in his own world. “It’s like my body is on fire.”

Your vision went black around the edges—you started to rub faster, spreading your legs open wide and creeping your fingers under your panties.

Burying your hand in your underwear, you hissed in air at your teeth as your fingertips came in contact with your hot folds. Your back arched and a needy sound trickled out. “F-fuck, Sanji help me.”

Sanji froze, eyes glued on your hand that was shoved down your pants, stirring under the fabric. The stain on his pants got bigger and wetter—it was very noticeable.  

“What do you want me to do love?” He asked in a hushed, hesitant tone. He was holding onto his last shreds of reason, trying not to pounce on you, but those shreds of rationality were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Your vision started to go black. You closed your eyes, lost in the pleasure that you pulled from yourself in a daze. Sanji reached a hand up to your core and ran a thumb up and down over the fabric above your clit. Your wetness was seeping through the layers already.

Some amount of time passed. You came and it helped you regain lucidity. When you opened your eyes—you had no clue how long it had been—you were laying on the bed and Luffy stood over you, watching intently.

Sanji was sitting at the end of the bed, now shamelessly digging his thumb into the tip of his cock, playing with his slit as clear precum seeped out of it. His hips bucked upwards a few times and you watched. You realized that you were touching yourself, moving your fingers in swift and messy need.

Luffy leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. The first few kisses were surprisingly sweet, loving, even, but they quickly turned sloppy. He maneuvered onto the bed—now, his knee was pressed against your core, a hand braced on one side of your head, and the other rested on your cheek as he kissed you passionately.

You made out for a few seconds, grinding down onto his knee a bit, aiming for friction. Your mewls were driving him and Sanji insane—the blonde continued to tease himself and stroke slowly while he watched Luffy take in every inch of you with his lips. The captain’s lips moved south.

He pulled your pants and panties off quickly, spread your thighs wide, and started to eat you out on the spot. Pressing his tongue on your clit, the captain drew soft circles around your sensitive bud, then he swiped his tongue up and down along your entrance. Luffy wasted no time slurping and greedily licking every inch and crevice of you that he could.

You started to lose touch with reality again—you realized, distantly and in third person, that whatever was wrong with you seemed like you would start to black out any time you went too long without an orgasm. As you were making this conclusion, a loud thud at the door distracted you once again.

Zoro’s body had dragged him across the ship, bringing him to your room of its own accord. He could hardly walk, slamming into the door frame, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed next to Sanji, eyes darting between Luffy eating you out and the blonde’s fist stroking and squeezed his hard on.

Your eyes shifted to Zoro, sitting with his legs spread wide on the bed next to Sanji. The swordsman started running a palm over his clothed erection. His breaths were fast, his cheeks were bright pink, he didn’t seem fully cognizant of the fact his eyes were glued on his nemesis/frenemy’s fist pumping over his cock. No one said a word for a few moments. It was a silent agreement—whatever was happening needed to be addressed, and there was only one thing to do.

It had been too long without an orgasm again for you. Your vision went black and your mind went blank. When an orgasm finally crashed into you, minutes later, it brought you back to reality and a few moments of lucidity. Your ears were greeted by a cacophony of ragged breaths and deep groans to your left.

Turning your head, your eyes were met with the sight of two people (who you thought utterly hated each other) entangled on the bed.

Sanji was completely naked, while Zoro had on short, tight, black boxer-briefs. He was on top of Sanji, rubbing and humping his own erection on Sanji’s while his brows furrowed and needy sounds trickled out of his mouth. Every few seconds, Sanji let out a whimper and arched his back off the bed.

“Don’t stop,” Sanji gasped, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as Zoro’s muscles rippled and his clothed cock brushed onto Sanji’s aching, red one.

“I f-fucking can’t,” the swordsman grunted in response, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Your eyes stayed glued on the pair, bewildered and feral, until Luffy’s tongue, buried inside of you, demanded your attention. Was he using his devil fruit powers? Head had never felt this good before. His tongue prodded the pulsing hotness of your core, sliding up and down greedily between your lips before pushing inside of you again.

The slurping noises from your captain were sinful. Your eyes crept from his head buried between your legs to the sight of his hips rutting on the sheets beneath. His cock craved friction. He wished his tongue wasn’t buried in you but something else instead.

Grabbing tufts of Luffy’s hair, you dragged his mouth closer, pressing his roaming tongue as deep as physically possible.

“L-luffy, need m-more. Please.” You begged, vision getting blurry around the edges. You felt hotter than before.

Instead of your captain’s voice in response, a loud moan from Sanji answered your pleading. Your eyes snapped to the pair of men again—Sanji was squirming under the swordsman, shuddering and clawing at Zoro’s biceps now as he grinded up into his cock.

“Cumming,” the blonde grunted, pushing his hips upward, grinding harder onto Zoro. “I’m c-cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The chef came on his own stomach while Zoro rocked his hips into the blonde’s shaft with more urgency, overstimulating him and eliciting desperate cries.

“Can’t stop,” Zoro choked out amidst his own moans and heaves for air. You were speechless. You had never witnessed this level of pure desire before.

Tears pricked in the corner of the chef’s eyes, but he didn’t tell the swordsman to stop, in fact, he rutted his hips up again and again. He was gearing up for yet another orgasm when Zoro brought him into a kiss and trailed his fingers towards the blonde’s erection.

More moments fleeted by—more gut-wrenching pleasure from Luffy’s tongue inside of you, hazy images of Sanji and Zoro grinding on each other, smearing the milky puddle of cum all over Sanji’s abdomen on Zoro’s underwear and abs.

Your eyes fixated on the outline of Zoro’s erection through the damp fabric. You were mesmerized.

Time faded into oblivion. The next memory you had was of Zoro flipping you over, onto your stomach, and climbing on top of you. He positioned you in prone bone, pressing his chest on your back. Trailing his fingers down and squeezing a rough handful of your ass, he then dipped two fingers into your hot folds and coaxed fireworks of pleasure from you.

Zoro relished how wet and ready you were for him thanks to Luffy’s previous work. He played with you for a little while, dragging his finger pads across your g-spot repeatedly and curling them upwards inside of you until you begged for more. When he pushed his cock inside, he felt so big that it was almost painful. He entered you centimeters at a time, and when he finally bottomed out and the ring of hair around the base of his cock met your flesh, his hips started to pump into yours rhythmically, gaining speed each moment that passed.

“Feels hot and s-sticky inside,” he gasped, hips shuddering into you as his tip passed your g-spot. You shifted under him the slightest bit, drawing a sensitive gasp from the swordsman. Every movement from him felt euphoric—and coupled with his weight on top of you, you felt like you were doing crazy with desire. He couldn’t fuck you fast enough.

Turning your head, you realized that Sanji had one hand wrapped around his cock again but was now in a similar position to you. He was flush with the bed, chest pressing on the covers, simultaneously stroking himself and humping the sheets as he watched Zoro fuck you.

Zoro groaned pure filth in your ear. “Just like that, baby. Fuhccckkk. Feels so good.”

Each pass of Zoro’s length inside of you and past your g-spot was met with a squelching noise from how wet you were—every roll of his hips pushed him deeper inside of you and it felt like you were floating.

As Sanji watched, his fist moved faster and so did his hips. He roughly jerked his length and rubbed his glistening tip into the covers. His cock felt hot, it was pulsing, and each brush of his flesh against the fabric made him shiver. He was working off of animal instinct alone, eyes so dilated and mind so foggy that all he knew was that he felt good and he didn’t want it to stop. He could watch the pair of you for hours. He didn’t care.

Voice husky and bathed in lust, Zoro was getting more worked up. “Say my name,” he groaned as his length passed in and out of you. “Say it.”

Before his name could exit your lips, Sanji moaned into the sheets below. “Zoro. Zoro. Hah, fuck, Zoro.” Moments later, you watched him orgasm all over the sheets below, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.

Hearing the chef’s desperate, pathetic mewls made Zoro fuck you faster. The tip of his cock bullied your g-spot repeatedly. And just when you thought you were at the precipice of orgasm, Zoro reached a hand under you and started to rub your clit, then he bit your shoulder. The pain felt good, and the combination of sensations was overwhelming—your orgasm was intense, shocking, and ecstatic.

A fleeting thought passed through your mind—where’s Luffy?

He was perched at the end of the bed, touching himself to the sight, waiting for his turn, which he promptly took when Zoro was done with you.

The next scene in your memory was Luffy fucking you, but you weren’t quite sure how you got there. You did remember that right before Luffy touched you, he asked you softly, “Do you want to keep going? Or have you had enough?”

You croaked out an eager, “more.”

“On top?” Luffy asked, waiting for your confirmation. And when you again agreed, he shifted, so he was laying on the bed, and you were on top of him.

Sinking down on his cock, you started to ride him. His hands came to rest on your hips and his eyes looked hungry. As if he wasn’t full from the ridiculously huge meal he just ate.

Parallel to you and Luffy, Zoro had Sanji on his lap. Zoro’s chest pressed on Sanji’s back, so the chef was facing you and Luffy. The swordsman’s large, rough hand wrapped around Sanji’s front. Languidly, Zoro played with Sanji’s shaft, teasing him at a snail’s pace.

Zoro wasn’t all there mentally because of (what you deduced to be) the aphrodisiacs. It’s like he was running on pure thirst. Something in him wanted Sanji to beg and wanted to see you getting off to the sight. He was getting a kick out of the cook being absolutely pathetic. He wanted to see him be utterly shameless.

“’m gonna cum,” Sanji whimpered, writhing around on the stocky pair of hair thighs underneath him.

“Shhh. Not yet, cook. Can’t you hold on for a little bit longer? Don’t you want to watch?”

Sanji got quieter and nodded, holding his orgasm at bay as best he could while he watched you ride Luffy, who was practically growling out commands faster than you could keep up.

 “Faster.” “Faster.” “Harder.” “More.” Every time he spoke, you did as he said. You did so until your legs started to burn, until your thighs started to shake, until he was doing all the work for you, lifting you up and down on his shaft.

He pressed his tip on your spongey hot spot and wrenched pleasure from you. Zoro edged and teased Sanji within an inch of his life while the pair of them watched—it was almost cruel. The cook was in tears over how good it felt, how badly he wanted to keep cumming, and how much it was getting to his head.

“Please Z-zoro, fuck, please.” Sanji was close to his breaking point.

“Just a bit longer, curly brows, hold on.”

A few more seconds passed. It didn’t take long for Luffy to bring you to the brink of orgasm, which was what Zoro was hoping for. As you started to shake, eyes rolling back in white-hot pleasure from your orgasm, Zoro finally gave Sanji permission to cum.

You hadn’t expected the swordsman to be this controlling, this mean, and this verbal.

“Mmmphhhh. Just like that,” Zoro exhaled while he watched you cum all over Luffy’s cock. “Now you can cum.” He then murmured something in Sanji’s ear that would have left you gob smacked if you had enough wherewithal to think. “There’s a good boy.”

While Sanji painted his own stomach white, you collapsed on top of Luffy. He kissed the side of your head and started to pet your hair.

“You need a break?” He asked you, voice tender and kinder than usual. You nodded and then drifted into unconsciousness for some period of time.

Memories after this point completely faded to black. You had some notion of waking up and sucking Zoro off and then riding Sanji until he cried again, but… the images were blurred. Someone came on your face, two indiscernible figures in your memory were entangled on the sheets again, but… you drew a blank after a point.

---

When you finally came to, you concluded that whatever the fuck that was must have been a very strong aphrodisiac. You couldn’t figure out what it was in though—the wine? The water? Something in the food? Whatever it was, it must have gotten out of your system through sheer number of orgasms and hours of fucking.

You were still on your bed, under the covers and tucked in along with Luffy. Sanji and Zoro were off somewhere, presumably getting cleaned up but…? Who knows. 

You checked the clock—it was around 10:00PM. You, Sanji, Luffy, and Zoro had been going at it since 5:00PM, shortly after your early dinner. So… almost five whole hours? But you didn’t feel like it, really. You weren’t sore or anything which was a feat in itself.

Putting some clothes on, you wandered to the kitchen for a glass of water. You were parched. You’d have to wait to debrief until you saw Zoro or Sanji, or until Luffy woke up.

You walked into the kitchen and were met with a sight that broke your brain for a second. Nami, Robin, Franky and Usopp were at the dinner table, chowing down on the dinner leftovers Sanji packaged up for them in cute little serving boxes. They must have just gotten back from their outings.

Your eyes flashed around the room—wine bottles were open. They were having a grand old time.

Your stomach sank. Fuck. They were about to have even grander of a time if they kept eating and drinking like that. You’d have to sit yourself out for round two—not sure you could handle it, honestly.

After that night, you came to a good understanding of the dynamics with each man in bed. Not only from your memory, but because you went in for seconds with each of them at some point. Luffy was greedy and forthcoming, but kind, like usual. Zoro was an absolute machine, filthy and verbose. And Sanji was, well, Sanji. He was doting, pathetic, and desperate. What a good variety to choose from—you were never left wanting again.

ik im gonna look back at this later and go GOD DAMN woman, were you okay? frothing at the mouth. anyway...

thanks for reading!! this was pretty challenging for me, i wanted it to be halfway decent but just couldn't get it anywhere i wanted really T-T idk if i'll ever live up to the luffy aphrodisiac kinktober fic i wrote :p

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

dividers courtesy of @issysh3ll taglist @eggrollforyou !

[annievrse]

rumour has it!

trafalgar law x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic

summary: rumour has it that the surgeon of death is your boyfriend... w/c: 5.3k c/w: suggestive, secret relationship, reader wears a dress, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns.

The sun is just moments off dipping behind the horizon, the pink and orange hues meshing into subtle indigo. Since leaving the previous island, the air has been humid and sticky, but the slight breeze drifting through the Grand Line is refreshing. 

The inside of the girls' quarters smells of vanilla, salt, and Robin's rosewater incense. The waves crash against the side of the ship, seaspray making its way through the ajar porthole, and you're sure Nami will scold you for leaving it open, but you're far from caring now.

The cotton sheets of your bed, a present from Robin for your birthday, are soft on your legs as you turn over for the nth time in ten minutes. You wouldn't call your current state one of grief, since he is still alive, but the rawness of your throat and the deep ache in your chest makes it seem so.

Skipping dinners and chores was enough for Nami and Robin to know there was something wrong, but you've been holed up in the room since departing the last island, and now they're positive this is more than just feeling sick.

The door slams against the wall when Nami kicks it open, a scowl on her features as she stomps over to you and rips the sheets off. You whine at the loss of cover, your body curling further in on itself as you shove your face into your pillow.

"Leave me alone."

Nami scoffs. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nami—“

"We're worried about you," Robin's soft voice comes from the doorway. "You've never skipped out on your chores for this long before."

Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut. No words leave your lips, and Nami and Robin share a concerned glance.

"Come on, dinner's ready. The crew's been waiting for you to join."

You sniffle and swallow thickly, remaining unresponsive to their words. If you were to tell them it feels as though your heart is going to explode and your limbs are lethargic because of a man, you fear they'd laugh at you.

"Has that window been open this whole time?—"

Robin says your name softly, abruptly cutting Nami off. "Please?"

You've always thought of the archaeologist as an older sister of sorts, so when she gives you an encouraging smile and a hand to take, you give in. Robin's always been more understanding than Nami, but you wouldn't trade either of them for the world.

"If this is about that rumour..."

You ignore her, your skin ablaze with apprehension at Nami's implication. The fresh air of the deck hits you in the face, and joyful screams and laughter from the galley have your stomach churning with anxiety.

"We understand if you don't want to talk about it, we know that rumours can get out of hand sometimes."

Your eyes remain on the floor while your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You're feet away from the kitchen door, and you resist the urge to run in the opposite direction.

"Seriously," Nami says, an easy laugh falling from her lips. "You can tell us anything, you know that."

Guilt bubbles under your skin, and you feel disgusted with yourself for feeling like you couldn't confide in them. You open your mouth to reply when a sharp gasp cuts you off.

"You're here!" Luffy exclaims, his contagious giggles making your lips turn upwards for the first time in a week. "I missed you!"

Suddenly, limbs are wrapped around you, and Luffy's grin presses against your cheek.

"I missed you, too," You smile and lean your head on his shoulder.

"Are you hungry?" Luffy asks, unwrapping himself from your torso. "Sanji cooked up a feast!"

And he isn't exaggerating. The cook stands before you, his eyes wide with concern as he takes your hand. "I made your favourites, mon amour."

You nod as you take in the platters and towers of food splayed on the long dining table. Brook, Franky, Jimbe, and Chopper sit on one side, and Usopp and Zoro sit on the other, all giving you reassuring smiles as you greet them.

"Thank you, Sanji."

"Anything for you, my angel!"

You take a seat beside Zoro and Luffy slides in next to you. "Let's eat!"

Dinner is as chaotic as usual, and in the week you've been hiding in your room, you've come to miss the disordered affair. Mountains of different dishes are piled onto your plate, thanks to Luffy, as Zoro pours sake into your mug. You won't be drinking tonight, but the thought that Zoro wants to share his beloved drink with you has your heart growing with warmth.

You pick up your fork and stab a piece of grilled broccoli. The flavour melts on your tongue as you chew, your gaze scanning your crewmates as they continue with their normal dinner conversations.

"So is it true?"

The room goes silent, and the only sound is the clink of Chopper's hoof on Brook's humourous. You stare into the voids of his eye sockets and swallow quickly to avoid choking on the vegetable.

"Wrong thing to say?"

Nami is the first to growl as she stands. "Yes, idiot!"

The rest of the crew groans and throws their assaults at the skeleton before he cries out.

"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry," Brook winces, his hands up in defence. "If I had a heart it would be full of remorse right now."

His usual gag makes you exhale a short laugh and the crew visibly relaxes.

"I'm fine, guys," You sigh. "I'm not going to break."

"So, Traffy, huh?" Zoro is amused, and when you look at him, he raises an eyebrow. "What? It's what we're all thinking."

"He's not wrong," Franky pipes up. "Rumour has it you're together."

"Who knew you two were such gossip?" Robin quips, a mug of tea held up to her lips. "Where'd you hear this so-called rumour?"

"Around," Usopp says, evading answering with a proper response.

"It's not true though, right?" Franky asks.

You shake your head immediately, stomach souring. "How would it be? I haven't seen that guy in forever, let alone be in a relationship with him."

"That's what I said!" Nami exclaims, slamming her hands on the wooden table. "I think I would know if my best friend had a boyfriend, especially if it were Traffy."

As the crew start discussing who they think started the rumour, you sit quietly. There's no telling who or how the rumour started, and you'd rather not think about it.

The article in the newspaper had been published a month ago, and to say it had caused waves was an understatement. With you and Law on two separate, infamous pirate crews, it was bound to affect civilians and pirates alike. The thought of the Heart Pirates and the Strawhats allying again had the world on edge, and if it was because of something as fragile as love, then it would be problematic for both sides.

You pick at your plate with no appetite. There are eyes on you from across the table, but you ignore Robin and continue moving food around with your fork. She can think all she likes, and so can the remainder of the crew, but you're not giving up your most vulnerable secret that easy; especially when the rest of the world thinks the same.

—

You have to tread lightly. Above you, a monthly meeting between the Kid Pirates, the Strawhats, and the Heart Pirates is taking place.

Nami rushes around the girls' quarters for a map she forgot before she stops and sees you at your desk. Various pens and papers are sprawled on the surface, and Nami wonders what you're writing. However, she doesn't press and scolds you instead.

"You're meant to be upstairs."

You groan and spin in the chair. "I'm busy."

Nami rolls her eyes. "Come on. This is important."

"Can't you just relay it to me when it's done?"

The newspaper and the rumour have been long forgotten. It's been two months since the dinner and a month and a half since the crew dropped the gossip, and you've been back to your old self. Nami's grateful that you're no longer affected by it, but there's something about the way your wrist flicks the pen on the page that has her suspicions surfacing again.

You mumble something she can't hear and stand. Nami furrows her eyebrows when she sees the state of you—you wear one of your nicer dresses and your eyelashes seem fuller, longer. She doesn't question it, but her mind circles back to the months-old rumour.

The walk upstairs and onto the deck is a tense one, and you feel the excitement of seeing Law swirl in your stomach. It's been a while since you've seen him, and him you, so, when the sun warms your skin and the heads of all three captains turn to the creaking door, you smile.

"Hi, everyone!" You say. "Sorry, I'm late."

Luffy brushes off your apology and grins while he tells you to sit with the crew. There are multiple sets of eyes on you, but only one makes your nerves dance.

You find a spot beside Chopper and face the other crews. The silence of your arrival slowly dissipates as the pirates start chattering again. You sigh deeply and scan the crowd. A familiar polar bear catches your attention, and you wave when Bepo meets your gaze.

The mink greets you with a warm smile, one that never fails to lighten your mood, as he nudges Penguin beside him. The pirate rubs his bicep before he realises what Bepo is saying, and then he grins, promptly whacking Shachi while doing so. It's a chain reaction, and soon, all of the Heart Pirates are waving at you from across the deck.

The more you think about it, the more the reason why the rumour was started becomes clear; you're not subtle.

Ikkaku almost squeals when she sees you, and soon she's crossing the grass to squeeze between you and Chopper.

"I've missed you," She whispers, throwing her arm over your shoulders. Chopper looks at her curiously, his head tilting as the cogs in his mind turn.

Sure, you've always been friendly with the Heart Pirates, but that's because you hailed from the same island as Law, Penguin, Bepo, and Shachi before you landed yourself in the East Blue. Simple. Definitely not because you're in love with their captain and have been for the past ten years of your life...

You refuse to think about the fact that you haven't told your crew yet, though, you're confused as to how they couldn't know. Sabaody, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, Zou, Wano... on all islands, you were attached at the hip despite trying your best to remain indifferent toward each other.

Maybe your downfall was hoping that they could figure it out themselves.

"Strawhat." His timbre is low, one you've heard countless times yet it never fails to give you goosebumps, even on the hottest of days.

"Traffy." Your captain laughs.

"May I talk to your seamstress for a minute?"

The crews fall quiet once more, and the air is thick with anticipation. A legion of owlish eyes set their sights on you, and you shift with discomfort.

Luffy nods and waves his hand in your direction. "Go ahead."

Ikkaku pats your knee before she stands and you watch her skip back to her spot beside Shachi. Law gives you an expectant look and nods his chin toward the Polar Tang.

A low whistle behind you makes you freeze and you glance at Zoro. He shrugs at your raised eyebrows, and smirks. He may not seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you know he's onto you, and from the looks the rest of your crew throw you, you know they are too.

You brush them off with a flick of your wrist and follow Law to the edge of the Sunny. He's quick to shamble you onto the Tang and lead you inside.

Once the air-tight door is shut, you release your breath.

"You okay?"

Nodding, you take a step toward him. Law watches you intently, his own shoulders relaxing.

"Come 'ere," Law mumbles, tugging you against him. You smile into his chest, your hands splayed across his back. "Missed you."

You look up at him, a smile on your lips. "Missed you more."

Law snorts and leans down, his nose brushing yours. The silence is comforting, especially when you're in it with him, a quiet kind of peace that speaks volumes without saying a word. There’s no need for conversation, no pressure to fill the air with sound. The moment stretches between you like a soft, invisible thread, binding you together without effort.

"Did you see the newspaper a few months back?" Law's voice carries an undercurrent of caution, and from the way he hesitates, you can tell he’s debating whether to bring it up. You hum, your eyes flickering briefly between his.

"The crew asked a lot of questions, but I never let it slip," You say, but there’s a tension in your words.

The need to be careful has grown more important as time passes, as the world becomes more dangerous, like a delicate dance you’ve learned to navigate without drawing too much attention. Still, the questions, the rumours, the assumptions—they're starting to take their toll.

“It shouldn't be like this,” Law murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes close briefly, as though he’s trying to block out a reality he can’t change. "But is there any other choice?"

You can hear the desperation in his words, the quiet plea for an answer that seems impossible to answer. This hidden side of you that's tucked away from prying eyes and curious minds has become both a refuge and a cage, something you never wanted it to be.

"No," You answer softly, your voice steady even as your heart tightens in your chest. "There’s no other choice."

You don't need to say more—he knows. Both of you know.

"But I’m going to tell my crew," Your voice cracks the silence, and the statement hangs in the air between you. "They're onto me."

Law exhales, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. The fear of consequences and the possibility of everything unravelling if the wrong person knows eats away at you, and from the way Law's eyes plead, you know it hurts him too.

"Of course you can," He mumbles, his voice low. "I would never tell you what you can and can't do."

His words are firm, but they don’t bring the comfort you're hoping for. You both know that telling is easy, but it’s living with the consequences of that decision that’s the hard part. It’s about what you risk losing if it all falls apart.

You lean back to look at him from a different angle, your heart beating a little faster than it should.

"But you’re scared, aren’t you?" You say quietly, knowing the answer before he even opens his mouth. You know him, you don’t need him to say it aloud. 

"Yeah," He admits softly. "I am. Because I can’t lose you. But I know you don’t want to lie to them either."

There's a raw honesty to his voice that he usually keeps under lock and key when there are other people around. But when it's just you, Law is as vulnerable as he allows himself to be, which is much more than he's ever shown to anybody else.

"It’s not about them," You whisper. "Whatever happens, we need to decide what we can live with. Because if the four seas know we're each other's weakness, there goes our cover of ambiguity, and you've always been mysterious."

There’s a flicker in his eyes, a brief spark of something, and for a second, you think maybe he’s going to speak, probably some remark to dismiss the tension or shift the conversation. But instead, Law chokes out a laugh—quick and unexpected.

It is short, but it carries relief, like an exhale after holding in too much. The tension between you lifts, just slightly, in the aftermath of it. You can’t help but smile, even though the gravity of everything is still hanging just beneath the surface. The humour is a welcome distraction, a brief flicker of light in a room that’s been dark for too long.

And you suppose it has. You haven't seen Law in a few months, and every time you do, it's like the floodgates of your heart open all at once—suddenly, there’s no holding back the torrent of everything you’ve kept buried, everything you've tried to push aside. Nights crying yourself to sleep, endless days stuck in bed replaying the memories, dealing with the longing, and suffering through the unsaid words that have accumulated in the silence between your last meeting and this one.

Law moves one hand to rub the back of his neck, his usual aloofness returning, but softened with your attempt at making him laugh.

“I suppose that would make me less... mysterious,” He murmurs, regarding you with that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No one’s going to take me seriously as a captain if they know this side of me."

Rolling your eyes, you press onto your toes and press your lips against his. You giggle against his mouth when he immediately kisses back, his response urgent, as if he’s been itching for this moment, for permission to bridge the gap between the two of you.

There’s no hesitation in him now, just the raw need that’s been held back, tightly reined in for months on end. His hands find their way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer like he never wants to let go.

"They're probably waiting for us," You gasp as Law trails his mouth down your jaw. "Wondering what the hell we're doing."

Law's chuckle is dark as he continues his attack on your neck. "If they can't guess then they're dumber than they look."

Your giggle dies on your lips as Law gently pushes you against the metal wall of the Tang, his leg slipping effortlessly between yours.

"That’s a low bar," You manage through gasps. "Have you seen those guys? They think jumping in the ocean is the epitome of cleanliness."

He laughs against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Yeah, okay. But, if your crew don’t know by now, they’re either blind or still trying to figure out if the looks I give you are innocent."

You pull back slightly, glancing at him with mock seriousness. "Innocent? You just bit me on the neck, Law."

He grins, clearly enjoying himself. He ignores your comment, reality creeping back into his mind. "If they don't already know, you tell them, alright? I want you to be happy."

He looks at you like you hung the stars, and there's no other way you would wish him to look at you. You nod and kiss his cheek. "We're not that subtle, though, are we?"

Law furrows his eyebrows and recalls a time from your past, the memory making him smile prematurely. "Like the time you tried to sneak past Bepo and Penguin and knocked over an entire shelf of medical supplies?"

You wince and then laugh. "Well, they didn’t hear that, did they?"

Law tilts his head, his lips curling into that devilish grin. “I think they'd be more concerned if we weren’t doing this. I mean, what else would explain us sneaking away like this?”

You snort, trying to hold back the laugh threatening to escape. "Probably think we're plotting to steal the Sunny's meat stash. Honestly, I'd be more worried about that."

“Hey," Law's voice drops to a mockingly serious tone. "Strawhat would argue that meat is the only thing worth risking a mutiny for."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. "Guess they really are dumber than they look if they don’t figure out what we’re up to."

"Exactly," Law says with a wink, pulling you back into him, his lips finding your neck again. "Now, stop talking, and let’s just enjoy the mystery.”

—

When you emerge from the Polar Tang, the noise hits you first—the unmistakable sounds of raucous laughter and clinking sake cups over the familiar lull of the ocean. The air is thick with the smell of grilled fish and meat, and the warm, comforting aroma of rice wine.

The moment you step onto the deck, you're greeted by the sight of Franky and Zoro having a challenge to see who can drink the most sake without passing out. Usopp’s telling a wild, drunken story that no one can fully believe (and everyone’s too tipsy to really care if it's true or not, it's funny as hell). Nami’s chatting animatedly with Robin, Ikkaku, and a few women from the Kid Pirates, all of them clearly amused by the antics happening around them. Sanji’s serving food, and from the looks of it, he’s already had a few cups of sake himself—he’s not even trying to hide the gleam in his eyes when he sees you.

Law is as calm as ever, his cold demeanour never faltering as you step into the crowded area, though you catch a flicker of amusement in his gaze. It’s as if the two of you are invisible in plain sight. You exchange a glance—silent communication, the kind that only the two of you can manage—and it’s clear: they don't seem to suspect the rumour to be true.

Zoro waves a half-empty bottle of sake at you as you step towards the group of girls, his grin slightly lopsided. "Hey, hey, you're back! What’s the deal? You two off somewhere plotting how to take the all the sake?"

Nami looks over, catching the tail end of Zoro's question, and you can practically feel the shift in the air as her eyes flicker between you and Law. Her eyebrow arches, the wheels in her head turning. She throws you an exaggerated eye roll, but there's something different in the way she does it now—a knowing, almost playful glint in her eyes.

"Ugh, you guys are too much," She says with a knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips. "That rumour doesn't seem so far-fetched now, does it?"

Seems your crew is a lot sharper than you wished they were.

“Wait, what?” Zoro squints at the two of you as though trying to piece it together. “Are you saying these two really have something goin' on? Thought it was just a dumb rumour..."

Nami’s grin only widens, her arms crossing as she watches you squirm under the weight of her gaze. “Oh, Zoro, you really haven’t figured it out yet? Please, it’s obvious. All the sneaking off when we meet with the Heart Pirates, the looks they give each other when they think no one’s paying attention, her constant sulking when we part from them—come on, you’re not that dense.”

You freeze as Nami starts listing off what seems to be a mental list. Had you really been that naive to think she wouldn't know? Your eyebrows triangulate as you try to catch her gaze, your eyes full of regret. Nami smiles softly when she sees the look and waves her hand. You know she'd never use this against you, but you can see the flicker of hurt in her amber eyes.

Maybe you underestimated your crew's observation skills, or maybe you deemed yourself unworthy of being the centre of attention. Whatever it is, it's making you uneasy.

On the other side of the deck, the volume of chatter softens. The Kid Pirates may not have been paying much attention to the earlier drama, but now they’re looking at you, and every single one of them has just become aware of the situation. Especially Kid, who raises an eyebrow in your direction, leaning forward slightly.

Your heart skips a beat when you realise they have also figured it out, and then the whole keeping it between your two crews turns into the Kid Pirates knowing too. Panic rises in your chest when you register the severity of the situation—if they know, then how easy is it for strangers to do the same?

"Wait, you two...?” Kid starts, his voice rough and a little too loud. His gaze flickers between you and Law, then back at his crew, who are clearly picking up on the vibe. "Huh. That’s not a surprise, but I guess it explains the newspaper thing."

Killer’s grin widens, a knowing glint in his eyes. "So the rumour was true?"

But Law, ever the picture of composure, only tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It’s really not that interesting," He says dryly, arms folding across his chest.

Kid is unimpressed with Law's deflection, his eyes flicking back to the rest of the crews, who are now too interested in the drama to look anywhere else. "Guess that rumour was right, after all. Kinda figured you two had something going on, especially after that time you both disappeared on Sabaody while the fight was going on."

You stare at Kid, trying not to let your face betray how uncomfortable the situation has become. "That had nothing to do with this."

The laughter, the teasing, the questions—everything starts to blur together, an overwhelming rush of voices and jabs that twist around in your head, all at once. Your heart hammers in your chest as you struggle to keep up with the rapid-fire chatter.

"That long?" A shocked cry comes from the other side of the deck. Sanji's dramatic approach is unmistakable, his wide eyes filled with genuine concern as he rushes over, his steps quick but careful, like he's about to witness something catastrophic. “You two... really?”

You inhale sharply, trying to steady yourself, but your breath feels shallow, trapped in your throat. The reality of the situation hits you all at once. The entire crew—your family—along with your second family, and the Kid Pirates are staring at you, waiting for some reaction, some explanation.

"Enough."

Law’s voice cuts through the haze, louder than anything you’ve heard in the past few minutes, sharp and commanding enough to grab your attention. It’s like the snap of a whip, but it doesn’t feel threatening—just firm, steady, the sound of someone who’s done with the chaos and isn’t going to let it continue.

The silence is immediate.

"We were going to tell you soon," You say, voice quiet. “But I just don't want to whole world to know, you know, considering the positions of everyone here.”

"Wait," Usopp says, finally grasping the situation. "Are you telling me the rumour has been true this whole time? You’re… you’re really together? And we didn’t notice?!"

“What?” Luffy blurts out, voice high and incredulous. "You two? Together?" He tilts his head, processing the words at lightning speed, then grins ear-to-ear as if he’s just solved the greatest mystery in pirate history. “That’s awesome! I knew it! I knew you two were up to something! You’ve been acting all sneaky, like when I steal food and nobody sees me! I can tell, you know?!”

Nami opens her mouth to scold Luffy but is cut off by Robin. 

"Interesting," She says, but there's no judgment in her tone—just an almost quiet understanding. “I must admit, I’m curious as to how long this has been going on. You both hide it so well.”

Her gaze lingers on you and then shifts to Law. The curiosity in her voice is gentle, like a conversation you might have over a quiet cup of tea. She’s not pressing for answers; she’s just acknowledging the truth without making a big deal out of it. There’s no teasing, no grand statement, just that calm acceptance that feels like an anchor in the middle of the storm that’s just hit the Sunny.

“Few years,” Comes your vague answer, but it satisfies Robin nonetheless. 

“I’m glad you both are happy," the archaeologist says simply, and there’s a softness in her eyes that makes you feel like she truly means it. Your honorary big sister approves of your relationship, and it makes tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Don’t worry about the others too much. They’ll adjust. Just take your time.”

“Adjust, my ass,” Zoro quips, crossing his arms with a sigh, his voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. “So you two were just playing it cool while the rest of us looked like idiots? And you still managed to dodge all my questions? Impressive—"

A loud, exaggerated "yohohoho!" from the back of the crowd echoes across the grass, interrupting Zoro. You glance at Brook, who had been standing somewhat aloof in the corner, a wide grin plastered across his skeletal face. His arms are thrown dramatically into the air like he’s just witnessed the most epic romance of the century.

“Well, well, well, it seems that true love has bloomed!” He says, his voice full of glee and a touch of theatrical flair. “I can see it now!” Brook continues, hands raised to the sky. “'The Pirate King’s Crew: A Hidden Love Unveiled!' A ballad of passion! A symphony of suspense!” He pauses dramatically, looking back at you and Law with a gleam in his eye. “You two should definitely star in it... or, perhaps, just provide the inspiration. Yohohoho!"

“I’m glad someone’s enjoying this,” You say with an uninhibited giggle.

Law shakes his head, though he’s clearly amused by the skeleton’s antics. "If he writes a song about us, I'm throwing him off the ship."

“Oh, don’t worry, captain!” Brook says brightly. “I’ll make sure the song is perfectly respectful! There will be no disrespectful verses in this one! It’ll be a tale of true love!”

Nami facepalms and ignores the musician. “I told you guys they were too subtle. You seriously think you can get away with anything with me around?” Her eyes flick to Law. "But I’m guessing you didn’t exactly want to make this public right now. And with Kid's crew around, I can see why."

“Hey!—”

“It wasn’t about hiding it forever,” Law cuts in, his voice steady and calm. “We just didn’t want to deal with the... complications. Not with everyone constantly looking over our shoulders.”

“So I assume Law’s crew has known for a lot longer than we have?” Robin says. “Considering you’ve known them since childhood?”

"I'm sorry." Your nod is sheepish, though there’s no anger, only mild surprise from your crew.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you guys…” Bepo calls from his spot on the bow with Shachi and Penguin. “It was just... well, her and Law’s business, you know?”

“We’d rather keep this under wraps,” Law announces, his glare pointed at Kid. “So don’t go running your mouth, got it?”

Kid throws his arms up in defence, a smug chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t care that much anyway, Trafalgar. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

“Got it!” Luffy laughs, shoving a hunk of meat into his mouth. You trust your captain with your life, so his easy answer is enough for you.

Law tuts and turns to you. He looks slightly pale at the realisation that people know, but the relief in his posture is evident. 

There’s an air of collective understanding in the air as the chatter starts up again. Usopp is back telling his stories to the women, and Zoro throws another empty sake bottle at Franky’s feet before the cyborg can finish his drink.  

You wish to explain your side to Nami, but she looks content sipping on her cocktail and conversing with the Kid Pirates. You'd tell her all about it when this meeting is over and you have a clearer head.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” You say, turning to Law with a smirk. “How about we finally get some rest?”

“And give them more ammunition?” Law asks, the corners of his lips curling into a smile.

You sigh, glancing back at your crew. “Not like we’ll escape it ever again…”

And as you look around at your family, both the Straw Hats and the Heart Pirates, as well as the Kid Pirates, who are revelling in the gossip, you can’t help but feel a warm sense of relief. It’s out there now. No more secrets, no more hiding.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[crazyfoxyarcade]

THIS WAS GOODDD 😍

˖˙ ꔫ — ROUGH & RUGGED, SOFT & SWEET ˚

꒰ synopsis : the growing tension between you and zoro is boiling under the surface at the party of your latest victory. set at the end of the fishman island arc but no major spoilers ꒱

꒰ content : MDNI. zoro roronoa x reader ; first kiss -> mind numbing make out session. alcohol use (zoro + reader share a drink). lots of build up. slightly suggestive. — WC : 5.2k ꒱

You missed this.

This being the utter chaos that would ensue after every fight the Straw Hats would face. After a long two years, you were all finally together once again and now on the cusp of greatness, you’re able to celebrate over your latest victory.

The air was buzzing around you, prickling at your skin and beckoning you to properly join the festivities. All around you were smiling faces, lips twisting into celebratory cheers. The alcohol was pouring along with the praise, everyone getting showered in compliments for their heroics. 

Leave it to the Straw hats to find themselves at another party. Granted, this one was deserved — all of them were anyway. Anytime the Strawhats found themselves on a new island, they always managed to leave it better than they found it. Some stroke of destiny that fell upon them, the magic they carry within them spreads to everything they come across.

That is, until they eat and drink their way through all the food and leave a mess after said party.

The crew never stuck around longer than they needed to, far be it from cleaning up after themselves. They were pirates after all. No one said they had to be the most thoughtful party guests.

With a quick scan of your surroundings, you ease back into the squishy chair you’ve taken residence in, taking a moment for yourself before you decide to properly join the party before you. There were so many thoughts swirling in your head, so many things to reflect on. Each of your crewmates and especially your captain had gotten stronger, new moves being thrown out into battle at every glance. 

It was hard to keep up but it invigorated you nonetheless. 

A part of you missed the clouds overhead, the open sea in front of you with your beloved crew beside you. While  it was pretty nice being here in a palace underwater that was beyond otherworldly and a sight that many don’t get to see — you just longed for the warmth and familiarity of the Sunny. To get back to the days that had kept you sane for the long stretch of time you were all apart.

A twinge of nostalgia stirs inside of you as you look down in your drink. The comfort of a blanket of stars that veiled overheard was instead replaced with the decorated ceilings of the palace. 

It’s something else that entirely enchants you, a buzzing that won’t quit as you look around the room. Extraordinarily beautiful, the Ryugu Palace was effortlessly decorated to the nines. It was an unimaginable place that you had believed could only be found tucked away in the pages of the old books you used to dig up from your childhood home.

Everyone was lost in it, finding their well deserved joy and becoming oversaturated in it. Sure, there was trouble brewing on the horizon — a new threat birthed in the early wake of this victory with an emperor of the sea you hope to never face, but, none of that seemed to matter right now.

Not as you watched your crew finally enjoying their time together, dancing and singing without a care in the world just like how they used to before you were all ripped apart. You couldn’t help but smile fondly and watch them have their fun as you take it all in.

And apparently, you weren’t the only one doing that. The green haired swordsman you left your heart with in Sabaody was also taking a step back from the party. His ever watchful eye taking in the crew — just like you. The seemingly elusive red thread tugs at something deep within you, beckoning you to go over to him and take your rightful place next but you falter, biding your time for the right moment. 

Your gaze lingers on Zoro for a little longer, watching as Jinbe takes a seat next to him with a handful of sake. A weight eases off your shoulders and rolls to the floor when you see Zoro smile, the achingly familiar sight fills your belly with butterflies. It had been far too long since you had seen it, and leave it to his precious booze to be the thing to bring it out of him.

For the longest time, you weren’t even sure if he was okay. The last you saw of him before you were separated, he was on his last legs. The sting of the memory stops you from ruminating on it for too long, eventually shaking the thoughts out of your head.

Reuniting with him was the highlight of your two years apart, being able to actually hug him was a rarity you relished in. The feelings that lingered deep within your core remained, even after all this time and you can feel them bubble up inside of you the longer you look. So with that, you get up, wandering over to him. 

Your ever drumming heart was beating to a tune that could only sound out to his name, guiding you towards him with every step that only ricochets the melody against the cool tiled floors. Politely passing by other party goers, you finally find yourself right where you want to be.

“Oh yeah, that’s the stuff, baby.” Zoro slightly slurs, wiping the residual sake off his lips with the swift swipe of his tongue. You freeze, the pet name that dripped from his alcohol soaked lips struck your very being and almost had you running away, tail shamefully tucked between your legs. But of course, the bastard noticed you. “Sit down already.”

His calloused palm reaches up, disarmingly gently wrapping itself around your wrist before roughly tugging you down next to him. You land ungracefully next to him, shoulder knocking into his. Heat rose to your face at the contact, but he seemed utterly unbothered and back to chugging his precious bottle of sake.

Someone hands you your own bottle and you look at it for a moment, nerves firing up as you’re still pressed against Zoro’s side. The close proximity doesn’t catch him off guard the way it does for you, not with the way he goes about enjoying himself - eye alight with mirth and a sense of contentment as he reaps the fruits of his labors.

Willing everything in you, you take a large gulp but vastly underestimate how strong this stuff was. You barely swallow it down before you try sputtering out the bitter fire you just consumed, the liquid dripping down the sides of your mouth.

Zoro barks out a laugh, the sound filling a piece of you that you would’ve thought had been lost to the graveyard of miserable memories that was Sabaody for the rest of your days. Hope swirls in the haze of the party and suddenly — you’ve never felt so present. The burning in your chest fades a little as his smile, the very one directed at you right now, soothes you.

“Still can’t handle it, huh?” Zoro asks, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. Quickly, you use the back of your hand to wipe off the sake running down your chin. The side of his lip twitches upwards before he sneakily hides it behind his own bottle — steadily gulping down the liquid as if it required no effort at all.

“Show off.” You watch as his adam's apple bobs, sake once again dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Despite the bitter taste that still lingers on your tongue, you find yourself wanting to lick it off of him.

“What? Can’t help that my tolerance is a hell of a lot better than yours.” The swordsman shrugged, leaning back a bit, eyeing you down as if he was about to challenge you. His tongue swipes along his lip, cleaning up the excess sake in a way that makes your heart twist.

“You sound pretty sure of that.” The words flew past your lips, never one to back down from him. Not now, not ever. “Maybe I spent the last two years practicing my drinking so I could finally beat you.”

“Oh Yeah? Based on what I just saw, I'd say you’re full of it.” He chuckles, a heartfelt sound before taking another swig of his sake. His next words came out of his mouth quieter, a little more thoughtful yet filled with a tame curiosity. “But who knows, you might have some luck tonight. Other than the past week or so, I've barely had a drink in two years.”

“What?” Your eyes widen and you can’t help but let out the laugh that boils over and bubbles out from inside your chest and flows to his perked, pierced ear. Zoro rolls his eye in retaliation but it was a lost battle.

“You heard me. Just let me drink, will you?” He swiftly takes your sake bottle out of your hand but you don’t go down without a fight. With what you hope would be a quick show of your strong reaction time, blows back into your face as you try to retrieve it but your fingers barely graze the neck of the bottle, just out of reach.

“Hey! Zoro, that’s mine.” Your hand ghosts along his chest before landing on his bicep, leaning into his space in an attempt to steal back what was yours.

“You don’t like it, anyway.” He pauses, attention quickly flitting to where your hand was resting now. “Didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“Did I actually say that, though?” You scowl, ripping it back into your hands. With a huff, you settle back into your spot, shoulder brushing along his side as faint as a feather. “I'm not sharing with you.”

“Bullshit, you always share with me.” He narrowed his eye. It’s true — in the past you’ve always given him sips of your own drink here and there. It always earned his thanks in the form of one of his special smiles he reserved for you.

“Looks like you just lost privileges.” You tease, as you reel yourself in to make a second attempt to drink the liquid. Squeezing your eyes shut, you guzzle what you can down as it burns every inch of your esophagus, getting ready to breathe fire. All you needed was the match.

“Well, well, there you go.” He claps you on the back in respect and the thread of restraint you had blows up as you let out another vicious cough. Zoro just laughs again, the sound melting your heart but viciously attacking your pride. 

“Jackass.” You mutter as you try to catch your breath.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time the two of you had been in a predicament like this, one where you were struggling to keep up with him. 

Your mind flashes back to the reunion with him, to the following days before the rest of the crew showed up. The two of you had been close before but this isolated time allowed something deep inside of you to grow, nurtured by the ever steady presence of the man beside you Late night drinking, fleeting touches, longing gazes. Surely that hadn’t all been one sided, right?

Hope stirred in your chest once again. Honestly, it was nothing new as the last two years were filled with endless thoughts of Zoro. What started out as something platonic quickly turned into something more romantic after having a dream about him that forced you to face the feelings you had buried deep within you.

The lingering question remained in your mind, pestering it relentlessly as your heart struggled to find the answer.

Did he feel the same?

To test your theory, your hand brushes along Zoro's arm, both of you intently watching. Slowly, you start to melt into his side, pushing the bands of fate and hoping it doesn’t all come snapping back in your face.

“You always get so damn touchy when you drink.” Zoro points out but makes no move to get space.

“Is that bad?” Your eyelashes sweep across your cheeks before they open once again, looking up at the man before you. His face betrayed nothing, but his eye was trying its best to hide something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“No.” 

“Then quit complaining.” With a reluctant look, you gaze back to your sake, questioning your decisions. Zoro lets out a small puff of air that sounded annoyingly close to a mocking laugh.

“Give up yet?” The look he gives you is enough to double down and keep trying.

“Absolutely not.” You huff, fingers clenching around the hefty glass. 

“There's so many other options besides sake, why don’t you go drink something you actually like.” Zoro vaguely gestured around the party, the half full cup of his own sake sloshes in his hand without managing to spill a drop. “Don’t be so damn stubborn all the time.”

He makes sense, yes, but that would involve getting up and finding it, leaving him behind for who knows how long. So you evade.

“Me? Stubborn? Look who’s talking.” You swish the liquid around in the bottle, wincing at how much is left. “Besides, I said I'd be better at drinking than you, so I gotta step it up, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s never gonna happen.” Zoro smirks, looking down at you as his pride involuntarily puffs off his chest.

“Oh really? That’s what you think?” You look up at him, demanding his attention. But to your surprise, you already had it, a dark look swimming in his eye as he drank you in. 

“That's what I know.” Zoro's gravelly voice was lower now, his tongue slowly swiping up a bit of sake that rested on his lips. Electricity prickled at your skin, stunning you into place for a moment as your gaze remains unwavering.

All of your breath was sucked out of your lungs and you had no idea if it was because of the sake rushing to your head or the sudden close proximity to the man who unknowingly held your affection. 

The rest of the room melts away into nothing but a memory. All that mattered was the man before you, the one who tugged at your heartstrings without any effort. The one who’s gaze on your lips burns more than the sake ever could. 

He was so close — closer than he’d ever been before since you’ve known him. The faint aroma of sake swirled with steel and a musk that’s entirely his own fills your senses, drawing you in closer with each passing second to the point you were almost sharing the same breaths.

“Well, you know what I think?” You start, honestly not knowing where else to go with this as your eyes linger on his lips. Zoro hums softly in response, the proximity close enough that you could feel the vibration of it through your shoulder and course throughout your body. The fact that his gaze lowered to your lips struck a chord within you, embolden you to make your next move. “I think you should—“

“Hey guys!” Luffy beams, throwing his arms around you both as he squishes you together. The spell you were both under shatters. The sake you were holding spills a little, getting onto your clothes, the strong smell filling your nose.

“Luffy!” Zoro barks out. “Watch it!”

“Oops, sorry!” He sheepishly sits next to Zoro. A few of the other straw hats come around in tow to hear another tale from Jinbe. You sneak a glance at Zoro, noticing that he’s turned his attention back toward Jinbe as he starts his next story.

The tension faded out so quickly you wonder if it happened at all — if the few small, harsh sips you indulged in were already playing with your mind and making it all muddy. All you knew is that you couldn’t sit around like everything was normal, walking it off was the best thing to do right now.

Using zoro’s shoulder as leverage, you quickly get up, your face warmer than the alcohol that was trying to settle in your stomach. The group gives you a puzzled look, wondering where you were headed.

“I'm just going to get some air.” You give out a convincing enough smile and luckily, the crew seems to accept it. You slip your glass into Zoro's hand, earning a questioning glance from him. All you can do is just shake your head, making your way around the group.

“But hurry back, okay? We need to have our food eating contest really soon.” Luffy beams over at you, waving you off before bouncing around Usopp and Nami.

The way back to the Sunny was short, mostly spent narrowly avoiding getting sucked back into different groups for the festivities. It’s not that you didn’t want to join, hell, maybe you’d even go back later as the delicious smelling food wafted through your nose. But right now, you needed to get a hold of yourself; you needed to clear your head. 

Unbeknownst to you, the one who sent your mind reeling in the first place was quietly trailing after you, keeping his distance far enough to avoid suspicion. But he was curious as to why you had gotten out of there so quickly, the brush of your fingers along his back still burning against his skin, seared straight through his clothes and injected into his veins that sent his heart beating faster than normal. 

Although the flat of your palm rested on his upper back only for a fleeting moment, it was enough for him to feel it but gone before he could savor it. It's embarrassing how the simple action tilts his world off of its axis, his mind spinning as it fights to align with the pull of your gravity.

Because the effect you’ve had on him has always been like this. The rough, hard exterior he prides himself in shatters into thousands of pieces on the floor with a simple brush of your fingers along his back. a man who had never put too much thought into love, romantic love, until your gaze was set on him and set his soul aflame.

Yet your smile was the very thing to remedy it. a salve to his scarred soul, soothing the steadfast yet slightly frayed walls that were so carefully constructed around his heart until they simmered away into nothing but rubble.

With his defenses down, the infamous demon pirate hunter quickly becomes the prey just from the effortless curl of your lips. No longer is he dressed in armor, ready to scare the world off with his brute strength, no. For now he’s a man who holds his tender beating heart in the palms of his hand, waiting for you to stake your claim on it.

Zoro has never been the most skilled when it came to directions, but somehow he could feel an invisible thread tug him your way, guiding him to the person he needed to see more than anything. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears your soft giggle from up ahead — politely refusing another group of fishmen their offer to join them for drinks.

The sweet melody of your laugh strikes a cord amongst his heartstrings, orchestrating them in a symphony he’s never had the pleasure of hearing. An entirely new experience that he wouldn’t shy away from. But it still shot adrenaline through his veins, wanting to chase the sound to the ends of the earth. Not even in his most brutal battles did he get like this, the butterflies erupting from somewhere deep within him — a place that he thought he had buried long ago.

The Sunny comes into view and you slip away into the girls room. A part of him feels a little unsure if he should just barge in but there was something in his gut driving him to do so anyway.

The door opens and he watches as you turn with wide eyes, a vulnerable look dancing in your pretty irises. 

You never failed to stun him. Zoro knew how to appreciate beauty, he wasn’t that much of a brute, but still, nothing seemed to compare to you. 

His heavy gaze landed on your lips again, watching them move in the form of words that never reached his ears, the sound of his own heartbeat driving everything else out as the door clicks shut behind him.

“What?” Zoro grumbles, the words hardly leave his throat. his adam’s apple bobs in protest, finger searing to touch you but he holds back. He always does. 

If only the rest of his body would listen — his cheeks growing warm, no doubt leaving a rosy hue that says more than words ever could. but you don’t say anything, you just give him that sweet little smile of yours like it doesn’t cause his heart to thump a little harder against his ribs every time you do.

“I asked why you’re standing so far away from me.” You seem innocent enough under the soft lighting in the confined space you both found yourselves nestled in, but he knew better. The fact the door was sealed, locked with the key no one else held meant it was time to confront the little game you two were playing, endlessly dancing around each other and your feelings. The safety of these four walls allowed him to open his heart, let in the curious desire that flooded his veins every time he looked at you.

“Come closer then.” The words left his lips and echoes along your heart, increasing the rate as he shifts on feet, itching to have you near.

“You’re the one that followed me here.” A pause. “So, meet me halfway.” You whisper from the other side of the small room. only a few easy steps and you’d be in front of him, a simple task that sent him on his way. And yet, you don’t move. still standing by the bed, frozen in place as he makes his way forward.

“Stop messing around and come here.” Zoro mutters, but there’s no bite in his words. You listen anyway, too curious to back down now. A few steps later and you were finally in front of him. 

“Why’d you come in here?” Softly, you ask the question even when you both know the answer. But your hopeful soul longed to hear the answer, hanging on to every unsaid word emitting from him. 

“To check on you.” Zoro leans down a little, his face growing closer to yours but nowhere near its desired placement. Gently, you take his hands and place them along your hips before reaching out to grab onto his clothes. He lets out a shuddering breath, fueled by a sense of longing that he can no longer hide. “Don’t be coy.”

“‘m not.” Your voice was soft enough to be a lullaby, gentle as the waves on a calm day, lulling him into your atmosphere with each word. Zoro's nose brushes along yours, taking a baited breath as he comes into contact. 

“Then quit stalling.” His breath spreads across your skin. The faint stench of alcohol lingered on both of you, evidence of your participation in the celebrations earlier. The party was still at its full height, no one would know that you slipped away for a little bit. It was the perfect time to take what you wanted and Zoro was waiting, but his restraint could only last so long.

“I'm scared.” Your whispered confession falls against his ears from your restless lips. A destined beginning was on the horizon, completely on the brink of leaving what once was and embracing something entirely new. Moving a millimeter closer would seal this fate, changing the course of your relationship with him. There was nothing you wanted more and yet, self doubt causes you to hesitate. 

Zoro was never one to admit fear. Hell, he hardly felt it. Always charging forward to the battle with his swords drawn and a deadly look in his eyes.

But this is different. This is you. 

“Don’t be.” Zoro hoarsely whispers back, his hand sliding up to loosely cup your cheek. His fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than pulling you closer and finally taste you in the way he had been craving. “You know I'd never hurt you.”

And it was true, Zoro would rather take the blade than bring any harm to you. Something as precious as you should be protected at all costs and it would be one of his greatest honors to do so. Even if this never amounted to anything that his heart yearned for, he’d proudly accept a place by your side no matter the label.

“I really want you to kiss me.” You breathe, fingers digging into the rich green fabric that makes up his clothes. You were so close to him, itching to feel his lips on yours. Sharing the same breath, the tension in the room was so thick it was only pushing you two closer together. “And I know you want to kiss me too.”

The honest truth was out there and Zoro has never been so grateful for your bluntness. He closes the distance, his kiss all consuming, the intensity taking you by surprise as the force of it has you both tumbling back onto the bed. 

It shocks him as your teeth knock together, bodies bouncing onto the mattress and into each other as he catches himself on his elbows. He pulls back momentarily with a look in his steely eyes you’ve never seen before.

“Sorry.” Zoro sheepishly mumbles, face turning red. But you don’t have it in you to care, pulling him back in for more and disregarding his clumsiness. 

The kiss melts into a slower tempo, the initial passion simmering into hot coals that are stoked by the prod of his eager tongue. Sloppy, yet sweet — he consumes you in an agonizingly languid manner. 

The harshness of teeth clashing together was replaced by the slick muscle that runs along your own, swirling your tongues together to get a taste of the flavor of your shared yearning that had been marinating for far too long.

You’ve never been kissed so deeply, so thoroughly — every inch of your mouth being explored by the tip of his tongue.

A soft noise works its way up from Zoro's chest, blooming from his heart and morphing into a love letter meant to deliver right to your own equally rapidly beating muscle. You happily swallow it down, filling you with the warmth of belonging you had never felt before. 

Large palms grab onto your hips, his thumbs circling the sliver of skin right past the hem of your shirt that's ridden up. The contact cools his searing hot touch, balancing each other out the more he caresses you.

A spike of alarm shot through your body, begging for reprieve, crying out for air but your heart refuses to listen. Wanting nothing more than to be suffocated from his lips kissing you that held the same drive and intensity he shows every time he’s in battle.

But your lungs might actually burst so you pull away rather harshly, gulping down air as his forehead rests against yours. The way you try to collect yourself gains all of his attention. Ever the observer, he watches your chest heave, your swollen lips part open, your unblinking eyes under a haze of desire.

“Zo-“ You gasp out, your hands crawling up his biceps and taking hold as if it could ground you back to the reality you deserted moments ago. 

The rest of your words die in your throat as you finally look into his eyes. the steely color replaced by obsidian, overridden with the very desire you had aflame in your core. 

There was a desperate hunger resting behind the irises you’ll never tire at seeing. But this was brand new territory, something sacred and pure that was about to meet its slaughter. The air of innocence burned away from the heat of his longing. 

And you could only pour gasoline over it.

“We…” He trails off, mesmerized by the way you bite your lip, practically beckoning him in for another taste. Years of discipline couldn’t have prepared him for keeping away from someone like you, every inch of his body pleading to divulge into his desires just a little more. 

Your gravity reels him back in as you grip his muscles, a silent plea to resume. His palm quickly finds the back of your head, pushing you closer to him as his lips crash back over you in a violent tidal wave.

Everything buzzed with want — need, to feel him everywhere and all at once. The longing you once held turns into greed and you can’t find it in you to care. Almost desperately pressing your body up for more to gain some sort of friction to ease the pain you were starting to feel in your body from the lack of attention.

His knee innocently slips between your legs, trying to find a way to ground himself as he pulls you closer, chests flush against each other now.

The action shocks you to your core, jolting in his hold as he innocently brushes upon something so sensitive. Zoro hastily pulled apart from your lips, furrowed gaze fixed on you to see if he had messed something up. 

Even in the dim lighting, you can see how rosy Zoro's cheeks are. The soft, vulnerable look etches throughout his features and you can’t help but reach your hand up, caressing his cheek.

Your thumb barely brushes over the edge of the scar that covers his left eye, watching as he shuts his other eye shut in contentment, letting you feel every piece of him.

An unfiltered version of Zoro that's beginning to open up before you, the walls around his heart clattering to the ground like armor falling off a knight. Laid bare for you to explore, unravel. 

The kiss left you in a lofty state, head in the clouds as you carve out your own little slice of paradise with the man before you.

But the dream eventually has to end, reality coming crashing down as the sudden rattling of the door handle breaks both of you apart, Zoro practically flying up to his feet as he hears Luffy's voice — who’s already whining about the locked obstacle.

You look over at Zoro and swallow nervously. Not over the fact that luffy was about to cut in at any moment, but over the uncertainty of what was next between them. 

The pressure of his kiss scars your lips, laced with an unforgiving bewilderment that grates your heart the wrong way and leaves its ghost behind to haunt you long after you part. The spell remains as it imprints upon your soft flesh, waiting for its caster to return and free you of this sweet torment.

But instead, Zoro's face returns to normal. the emotion back to simmering under the ever watchful eye and his walls fortified once again.

For his priority would always be his captain and his own dream, the crew falling in line somewhere amongst the narrow lines of those. But you? 

You could only hope there was a spot left in his heart for you to carve yourself into.

thank you very much for reading !! tagging @luffysprincess ❤︎ mwah !

[msfantasy-anime]

The Second Wedding

Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

Summary: Sadden by Luffy’s rejection to get officially married Ace turns up and convinced Luffy to just do it.

Part X

“I refuse.”

Thinking back, your frown presses deeper upon your face because why the hell would Luffy refuse?

What’s wrong with that nincompoop? He’s stomped around for years telling anyone with ears that you two are married. After all this time, the moment you were ready to make this thing offical, he goes ahead and refuses.

You continue to lean against the alley wall, sulking, hiding away from the world.

With any hope, the ground will open you up and swallow you whole. You feel so utterly embarrassed and rejected by the one person who you thought would never.

“Mrs. Monkey.” A teasing gravely voice calls out. Looking up you see Ace crouching on the roof looking down at you.

“Ace!” You yell out, opening your arms wide as he leaps down and pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Now why are you brooding in some back alley huh?” He questions, pulling you back to see your fallen face.

“Uh… it’s nothing.” You sputter, quickly trying to regain your composure.

“Please kid, you can never hide yourself with me. After all I am your brother-in-law.” He teases with a jab to your ribs, causing you to giggle involuntarily. You kick at the ground sheepishly, unwilling to expose your silly thoughts. “Fine fine - don’t tell me then.” He says, throwing his arm around your shoulders and guiding you back to the streets. “So I ran into Sabo recently and he told me something interesting.”

“Hm, pray tell, what is this ‘interesting’ thing?” You can’t resist smirking back. You always loved your dynamic with Ace. As if you two shared a secret that no one else knows.

Ace looks around as if checking for any unwanted listeners. “He told me you are returning feelings for Luffy.” Your face turns red at the accurate accusation. “And I said ‘my little tsundere? There’s no way!’ And so here I am. I had to see for myself.” Your face burns in embarrassment.

“I-I’m not a tsundere.” You huff, turning your nose up at the suggestion.

But Aces head leans back with a hearty laugh. “So you deny being a tsundere but you don’t deny having feelings for Luffy… interesting.” He grins back at you making you feel like you’ve been caught red-handed.

“So what? Anyone would be.” You mutter making Aces brows turn up.

“You know we are talking about Luffy, right? My idiot younger brother?” You nod making his face scrunch up.

“So… how long are we going to dance around the fact you were moping around?” You cringe at the question, feeling utterly humiliated.

“I-“ Taking a deep breath you finally admit the truth. “I… want everyone to know… I want to make it official - but Luffy… he doesn’t want too.” Your face looks crest fallen, as if silently swallowing back the tears whelming beneath.

“That moron.” Ace grumbles, pulling you into his side more. “Don’t worry Kid, I’ll talk to him- speaking of the devil.” Luffy’s boisterous laugh echos through the crowd.

“Aceeee! What the heck are you doin here?!” Luffy cackles, throwing his stretchy arms though the crowd, grabbing a hold of Ace and launching himself in for an embrace. “It’s so good to see you!” He laughs continuously.

“Oi Luffy, come here a second. We need to have a little talk.” Ace throws his hulking arm around Luffy’s neck as he chokes on his rough hold.

You watch as Ace cups a hand to Luffy’s ear, whispering whilst Luffy continues to flail like the drama queen he is; until Luffy turns limp.

“Ohhhhh! Why did no one tell me this?! Thanks Ace!” Luffy pulls away from his older brother, grabbing your hand and begins to drag you to city hall.

“You two crazy kids have fun!” Ace yells, waving at you both.

“L-Luffy, where are you taking me?”

“We’re going to sign those marriage certificates you wanted.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“What made you change your mind?” You mumbled.

“Ace told me i just have to sign a piece of paper then I get to kiss you.” He replies, continuing to drag you along.

You begin to burst into laughter.

Because of course.

Your husband will do it all for a kiss.

[metaeori]

Ace is obsessed with how your body moves.

like genuinely, he can’t stop looking.

Your body infatuated Ace and he just can’t stop starting no matter what he does, his eyes are glued to you.

Warnings: semi suggestive themes

Not me writing this like it’s an ao3 one shot.anyway hope you enjoy! (MY SHAAYYLAAAA)

WC: (idk it won’t let me highlight it all LOL)

It all started when you were stretching on the open deck out in the sun. Your shirt slightly lifted as your arms raised up beyond your head, slowly revealing your toned stomach and arced back as your v-line was exposed just a smidge.

Ace just couldn’t stop looking, he was a fair distance away but that didn’t stop him from seeing it all in 4K. His eyes couldn’t peel away from your stomach and the way your shorts were suddenly so short on your hips. His mouth was practically ajaw, what was coming over him? This was ridiculous, this isn’t the old days we’re a women’s ankles were the most lewd things.

He felt like a little boy walking in on a girl by accident for the first time. And then just like that, the view was gone. You finished stretching and carried on doing whatever you were doing before. Ace quickly diverted his gaze back to the open sea behind him, trying to maintain his normal composure again. But that image of you just couldn’t get out of his head, and so that whole scene slowly devoured him like the plague. Slowly eating him everyday, at random times and random places.

Now his eyes couldn’t leave you no matter what you did; when you crossed your legs when you sat, when your fingers caressed the edges of paper of the book you were reading, and especially when you looked up to talk to him. He got a whole view how could he not stare right there… he tried to play it off so nonchalantly but it was pretty obvious he was looking to everyone but you. His eyes jerked and his words stumbled a little as he tried his best to respond to whatever you were yapping about.

However it only got worse when the two of you departed for some expedition, you of course were a gunslinger; your weapon? Why a sniper of course! You and ace were situated on top of some high building rooftop, with very little cover to stay low. Being the gunslinger you were it didn’t phase you, you just had to station yourself lower to be out of sight.

You clocked the gun from behind your back to your front starting to get down on your arms and knees. You then laid out on the ground pointing the sniper in the direction of the target. You lowered the lower half of your body to the ground more, with one knee up for better balance. Ace was behind you and loorrrd he was drooling, he tried to remain calm but he just couldn’t. Your body looked godly from this angle, his mind could only run wild with his imagination that was vividly showing many scenarios.

The heat was rising up in him, his eyes outlined your figure. Tracing your curves his eyes followed your stomach to where they turned into your hips and from there to your heightened knee. He gulped down the lump in throat as his eyes practically fondled you. Then he found his hands heading straight for your waist, it was so small he bet he could wrap just one of his hand around it. He was inches away, the burning feeling intensifying as he itched closer to your cool skin.

“Ace..? What are you doing?” A confused looked on your face as you peaked at him from your shoulder.

“Oh! Um..I was just looking at the surrounding for you!” He jerked back his hand so quickly and blurted out some excuse hoping you would buy it.

Which you did cause your stupid and believe anything Ace tells you. You gave him a puzzled look and turned you head to look back through the snipers scope, carrying on like there wasn’t a man fanning over your body behind you.

Ace let out a sigh of relief, this poor boy wasn’t gonna get over his obsession anytime soon. Nor did he want to really, he only hoped that more opportunities like this would present more of your figure for him to ravish.

[boysluts]

The way you write sanji with a reader who's in love with him but accepts their fate to not be loved by him like that- its AMAZING and keeps punching me in the heart, sooo for the request

Hurt/comfort love confession with sanji🙏 the reader is talking to another crewmate they trust, they talk about their feelings for sanji and how its tearing them apart. And Sanji overhears it all, maybe it reinforce his own wants with the reader

Okay, I'm so sorry this is SO beyond delayed,,

Heh... I hope this'll be okay, I feel my writing is a tad rusty nowadays, so excuse me!

This is not proofread..so I apologise immensely!

I hope this is actually somewhat enjoyable, I'm fuckin scrambling my brains out

I feel as if this is utterly messy and all over the place,, so please bear with me!

I feel it's rather slow-burn,, and considered just posting this and making a second part, but I might post it as one..not sure if that's better or worse

And I'm so sorry for how long this has taken, and how long it is taking..I promise you I'm trying my best mls 🙏

Okay I know I've said it but this is so rubbish I'm so sorry guys

Sanji calls you Cherie,, cutesy loving nickname, it's already pretty shit but the ending is..more..shit??? Read at your own risk 🙏

AUGHHH AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR HOW DELAYED THIS IS!! I HOPR ITS KINDA ENJOYABLE! MWAUH MWAUH THANK YOU <3

_ _

You and the crew just finished breakfast,,

God it is always such a delight eating meals prepared by your Angel of a cook, anything he makes quite literally tastes like heaven itself.

No matter what he makes, he always makes it taste so good, fuck, he looks so good.

Its a bit shameful how often you find yourself thinking of him, staring at him, stealing glances, you can't help it. He's perfect in your eyes.

Needless to say, you've for sure caught on to your own feelings, you were self aware you had somewhat of a schoolgirl crush on Sanji, and boy did you figure out crushing on a man that treats all women like deities would drain your soul.

It was easy to fall for the treatment and affection, but you liked him beyond that, you love him beyond that, you've been trying so hard to get to know him, and you feel you've made progress, progress in getting to know him, it lights up your world knowing things about him no women, or man would've cared to know or really ask about...

But of course, seeing him flirt with others has taken its toll, of course you know he means well, and nothing much by it, and fuck. Why are you so jealous??? It's not like he's your man, he can do whatever pleases him.

But it sucks, your heart yearns for him, it yearns for him so bad, you hate how such an angelic man has the key to your heart, but doesn't seem to care. Now, unfortunately the crew has noticed your mood has been..quite down

It wasn't much of a surprise they'd noticed though, you were quite literally a ball of fucking sunshine, you matched or..tried to match everyone's energy, but to you, it was quite startling when you were sitting alone on deck, and robin approached you..or rather seemed to have appeared next to you

You didn't notice her presence, for awhile actually, until she cleared her throat, this startled you slightly, and you broke your staring at Sanji being scolded by Nami for doing whatever he was..

"Ahh..! Robin..hi- I didn't see you there" you say, politely, and flashing her a quick smile

She's silent for awhile.

.

.

.

"You don't have to do that, we can tell something is on your mind" she offers, sharing a neutral expression, you nod and sigh "Robin.." You start and you feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to continue "this is so stupid, God. I." You falter and hold your knees up to your chest Robin places a hand on your shoulder and offers a small smile

"It's not stupid, you can talk about it, if you'd like. No pressure, but I hope you know I'm willing to lend my ears anytime" and you silently thank her

She smiles

"Would..would you consider me stupid, for well.." You take a deep breath "I really like him." "Robin- I really, I really like him. I think. I think I love him."

She isn't surprised, she's seen how at a time your mood really depended on how Sanji was that day, how much you spoke, if it was negative or positive, she had quite an insight.

She sighs, and smiles "I know." You look up at her, through teary eyes "but it hurts, because I know this is the same treatment you and nami get too." Untrue she thinks to herself, she's seen in ways Sanji treats you differently than her and Nami..though, she supposes she sees your perspective.

"I know he treats all women equally, but It hurts, i- I know this is selfish, but is it..really that much to ask for him to truly consider something..with me?" Your frown somehow deepens, and you then go on about how hard it is to not just grab his face, kiss him, which..kinda gave her the ick, but she respectfully listens, regardless..

It seems as if you've spent hours venting about how this is weighing you down, how such a stupid thing as a crush is really anchoring and crushing your soul, and as Robin anticipated the waterworks had started, she can't think of words that would be much helpful to your case, so she just tries her hardest to provide physical comfort.

And in the time you'd been spilling your heart out about the stupid love-cook, Robin was aware he was actually listening, she'd noticed him listening, she' noticed him.

And she was sure his ears were burning red.

So when she looked to her side and saw him with a solemn expression but face somehow flushed, she just slightly nodded to him and herself.

She looks over at you, still sulking "it'll be okay, I'm sure you'll figure it out." She says, her tone hinting the obvious, the obvious you were oblivious to.

.

.

.

After awhile of sitting with Robin in pure silence, she speaks up "it's getting late, let's wash up and get some rest, I think you absolutely need some." The same smile still plastered on her face, you sigh, "Ahh right.."

She gets up dusting herself off, and before she walks away you stop her "Robin" and she looks back at you, tilting her head "Thank you, for all of this, thank you for everything" you smile at her, and she smiles back "Always, y/n, you're always welcomed, this is definitely the least I could do for you" you nod, following her, just until you part ways. She shares a room with Nami and you're fortunate enough to have your own room.

You got to your room, rummaging for your nightwear and undergarments, thinking to just wash off quickly and have a proper shower when you wake up. A couple of knocks pause your rummaging

You think it's Nami, probably asking if she could borrow your snowglobe, you know she wants to break it to get the cat out of it, nit thinking it could anyone but her you open the door eyes shut, finger already accusingly pointing "No Nami, You cannot break the snow globe to get the kitty from inside it" you say, letting out a small huff

Instead of the huff and sigh you thought you'd hear, you heard a chuckle instead, ...that doesn't sound like Nami you say to yourself,, you open your eyes to find no one other than Sanji standing right outside your door, a little Embarrassed, you smile awkwardly, and apologise.

"Its alright cherie" Cherie.. he's only called you Cherie a few times, and your not used to it at all, but still, you can't help the smile that spreads or perhaps the slight redness on your face either "is now a bad time?" He asks, smiling at you, confused you look on your bed remembering what you were just about to do, you smile at him "ahh, no no not at all, do you need something?" He looks nervous you think..

"Come with me, Cherie, let's talk over a drink if you don't mind" he says, all smiley, you smile too following close behind. You reach the kitchen and he ushers you to have a seat, while he brings out soda from the fridge. He sits in a way the two of you are looking at each other, he opens your Soda and you thank him with a smile, "So, what's up? What can I help you with, Sanji?" God, you're so fucking cute. He thinks to himself

He takes a breath, before sipping his drink, looking at you to find that your eyes are already all over him, leaving red to flush across his features..not that you could make out in the dim light. "Cherie i like you too." He says, but it comes out as a whisper, as if its a secret so sacred he has no choice but to protect it with his life, you stare at him, in shock, in awe, disbelief even, are you hearing this right?? Are you..Are you dreaming?

He notices your shock and chuckles, " 'm so sorry I wasn't aware that i hadn't made it as obvious as I thought I had.." he says, sounding a little nervous. He's looking at you as if your his whole word. "I- I know it was invasive, but I overheard the whole thing with Robin. I'm sorry, for being so slow, being so oblivious to your feelings," he says again, rubbing the back of his neck. You wanna lunge onto him and kiss him and ask him if he's being serious.

But you're still in awe. He'd been courting you as you'd been him? He Likes you too?

"Well, Sanji. I'm glad it's you"

He reaches for your hand, comfortingly rubbing it. And you just beam at him, he swears he feels his heartbeat 100x faster now, but he smiles back, a little unsure what to take from the ever growing silence. So then you speak "i'm- I'm sorry, I'm just shocked, I had never expected my feelings to be reciprocated, by You nonetheless" God, you can't help but look at him lovingly, like he hung the very stars in the sky.

And then you start, again.

"It'll always be you." You mutter, a little nervously

So, he speaks.

"And I'm glad it's you too, Cherie."

He's glad definitely.

And you can't help the smile you can only imagine gracing your lips. With nervous hands you cup his face and look deep into his eyes, your smile never faltering once. With shaky hands he cups your face too, he's so cute you think. Blush suits him, maybe only when it's you making him blush like this. Such a genuine smile, and you're the cause.

"Cherie" ... he pulls you out of your thoughts and you look at him, can't help but bat your eyelashes at him. You smile.

"Can.. can, i kiss you?" He asks, so Sacred, you had to make sure you were hearing right. But you nod anyway, "Cherie, let me hear you. Please."

You flush, and take in a shaky breath, "of course, you can" and before you know it he's pulled you closer to him, but he so very delicately kisses you, it would've fooled you. A man with no experience? He's quite the kisser.. you've seemed to have pulled his face closer, and you just look at him, he's becoming fidgety,

could you really blame him? He just kissed you. And once the nerves settles he pulls you into him, and you hold him too.

He chuckles nervously, "don't regret me, okay, Cherie?" And you kiss his shoulder, a silent response, but you hope he understands.

You can finally take the time and wrack your brain, make sense of what you two are, that your crewmate dynamic is now changed, you're now what you've wanted to be for a long time, his lover. And he is yours, too.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Finally cross-posted this to AO3!

You can read it HERE

To everyone here on tumblr, thank you so much for all the support on this fic, and all your kind comments. I'm blown away! Thank you all so much! ❤️❤️

Merlot & Primroses (Doflamingo x Reader)

Chapter 1

(AO3 link)

Summary: Your husband’s brother finds you. Life with him and his sham of a family is as cold as the snow your husband was found buried in. You're going to wilt slowly living with Doflamingo, you’re sure. No flower can survive in such snow.

Tags: Doflamingo x Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Female!Reader, Rosinante x Reader (mentioned through flashbacks), Murder, Mentions of Fratricide, Emotional Breakdown, Grief, Angst, Hurt, Post-Minion Island, North Blue Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Celestial Dragon Traditions, Donquixote Brothers, Adult Themes, New Tags Added with Each Chapter

A/N: It's finally here. The Red Suit Doffy fic I've been working on since... (checks dates of the first chapter) September 2024. Damn. I've only got the first two chapters written, everything else is vibes, but I want it to be 8-10 chapters. I also wanted to explore Doflamingo's way (or lack thereof) with showing/wanting/offering physical affection. This post is great analysing it and is the one that inspired me to even start thinking of writing it deeper and Doflamingo's lack of offering touch, and his use of touch when he does choose it/want it. It just confirmed to me back then that Doflamingo is INCREDIBLY touch-starved and very very not aware of it which has the potential to be very dangerous. Especially North Blue Doflamingo. (shudders) Also... I'm not sorry about the GIF. If I had to suffer making it, you have to reward my suffering by suffering while watching it. It's only fair 🥺

Word Count: 11.7k words

Chapter Navigation: 1 (you are here)

Chapter 1

The moment you and Rosinante moved into your house in North Blue for Rosinante’s mission, you had no disagreements over furniture placements and colour configurations. You both adored white and blue, and light colours, so there weren’t a lot of disagreements. The one thing you and Rosinante immediately agreed upon was the colour of your bedroom’s walls, both the ceiling and the surrounding four walls — sky blue.

To Rosinante, it was his favourite colour, and to you, it reminded you of the sky and the sea. It reminded you of the sky blue dress shirt Rosinante wears under his white waistcoat when wearing his marine uniform as a Navy commander — the uniform he wore when you met him.

It’s the sky blue ceiling you wake up to.

You’re laying in the bedroom you share with your husband, no weight of your clumsy blond husband on the other side, drooling away and snoring — silently thanks to his Devil Fruit — in his sleep.

That’s the first thing you notice.

It’s silent. Unnervingly so.

You roll over, half-asleep, glancing toward the alarm clock on your desk beside the marine transponder snail.

It’s way past the time Rosinante should have contacted you to tell you of successfully healing Law by making him eat the Op-Op Fruit.

Aren’t they back yet?

They should’ve been back by now.

Rosi would have called you that they’re on their way by now. You could heat up the dinner leftovers, or… No, you’d start on another dinner! Minion Island is cold this time of year, and although you’d bought Law the warmest cloak you could find in the town, he would probably still feel an unpleasant chill. You’d make them warm soup easy on the stomach.

Or... or...

A cake! A cake to celebrate Law beating his disease for good, and Rosi’s official last self-given assignment as Corazón. He could finally remove that mantle for good.

You were definitely going to convince him to keep his black feather coat, though.

The weather must be bad. The North Blue Sea was infamous for its waves during the winter months. Or maybe they're laying low on Minion now that the marines have arrested the Donquixote Pirates.

But Rosi would have called you if they were staying low; he’d promised to call you.

The yellow transponder snail with the white and blue shell rings.

You lunge across the bed to reach it, lifting the receiver by the time the second ring sounds out, your heart leaping in relief — Rosi must be calling to tell you they’re okay, that Law is healthy now, that they will come home soon —

The voice that said your name wasn’t Rosinante’s.

“Vice Admiral Tsuru,” you said, eyes wide. You cleared your throat. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Your husband, marine commander Donquixote Rosinante…”

Why does Tsuru-san sound in pain?

“...is dead.”

The world stopped, turning completely silent.

All you could do was stare blankly.

What?

The last two words repeated in your head like a broken record.

Rosinante is dead. Rosinante is dead. Rosinante is dead.

Rosinante… is dead?

Those words didn’t belong with Rosinante’s name. Rosinante and the word dead didn’t belong in a sentence.

Shock left you mute, your head completely empty.

“We found him in the snow, with twenty bullet wounds. Sengoku confirmed his identity,” Tsuru’s voice sounded pained and hoarse. Then, the marine vice admiral abandoned her white coat, and said to you, woman to woman, “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled with tears. It can’t be… it can’t be Rosi… not Rosi…

“He’s right here with me.” said Tsuru, while your hand around the receiver started to tremble. “We’re taking his body to Marineford. We’re sending a ship to escort you there tomorrow.”

Body. Body. Rosinante’s body.

Rosinante’s corpse. Your husband’s corpse.

“Understood.”

You put the receiver on the snail, its “Ga-chak.” filling the silence.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. The sound of it echoes in your head. Your sight blurs, and you lose sense in your legs. The next moment, you’re sitting numbly on the floor in the bedroom which you and Rosinante painted together, surrounded by the sky blue walls, tears running down your cheeks.

What just happened? What…

Seconds ago, you were thinking about what food to warm up if Rosinante and Law managed to come back at this time late at night.

Seconds ago, Rosinante was alive.

You shuddered, crying more tears.

Now, you'd just gotten a call he’s... dead? That they’re transporting his body to Marineford?

Shock numbed you. That didn’t make sense. Just three days ago, Rosinante slept beside you, his large body wrapped around you, keeping you tucked into his chest, keeping you warm. He’d been beside you, breathing, talking, smiling and alive.

In the snow? Twenty bullets in him? Twenty? Rosinante never got that many bullet wounds.

You grab at your throbbing head.

This can’t be real. It doesn’t make sense. Rosinante had been right here, which only felt like hours ago. He'd been right here with you, in this very room, his warm, soft lips kissing yours, his face snuggling in your neck, his blond curly hair between your fingers, his long arms wrapped snugly around you, his angelic laugh tickling your ear.

It’s not real. It’s not real, this is a nightmare, it’s not real. You’re having a nightmare. This isn’t real. It can’t be, it can’t —

“Rosi…” you whisper shakily, trembling. You choke on a breath. Your chest hurts.

Your mind struggled to catch up to your body, which was shaking, panting, tears streaming down your shocked face and open, wide eyes.

You realise your lungs are hurting, your breathing rapid — alarmingly, so.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t breathe.

You’re going to suffocate in the wave of your grief.

You rush outside. The air is cold. You inhale it greedily, foggy clouds sifting out of your mouth. Your chest felt painful while you gasped in the air. Your ribcage was squeezing in on itself. The cold air made you realise how warm the tears on your cheeks were.

You couldn’t stand anymore. You fell to your knees, and the sounds burst out of you; you started crying openly, loud, uncontrollable sobs leaving your mouth.

You screamed, howling into the sky, crying uncontrollably. The sounds your body produced, your lungs released, were heart-wrenching, full of agony.

You wept and wept, sobbed and screamed, hiccuped and choked, looking up at the starry night sky without really seeing it, tears streaming down your face as you howled in agony into the sky you used to watch together with Rosinante, crying toward the far-away stars.

All you could see was Rosinante, smiling brightly at you, his voice saying, “I love you!” filling your ears.

And your heart was wrenched open and killed.

Dead with your husband.

All you could do with the unbearable agony inside you was weep and howl like a dying, mourning animal.

***

How does betrayal feel like?

It feels like silence.

Silence of four years, a gap battled with taps on the den-den mushi and ink on paper.

It feels like the silence being broken by a voice. A voice not as deep as Doflamingo’s but sounding godly all the same, confident and calm, a softness Doflamingo’s didn’t possess.

His little brother’s voice, which Doflamingo mourned the loss of, not knowing he was mourning an empty lie. So many nights he spent thinking how Rosinante's voice would sound like as an adult, how his laugh would sound like, hoping maybe with time, he would hear it - one day, one day, one day — not knowing it was there all along and Rosinante had denied him all of it, had given it to the marines, to Law, to strangers Doflamingo didn't know.

Doflamingo hated them all.

Why did they get to have it and he didn’t?

Rosinante was his little brother, his family, his only equal, the only one who understood, the one who’d been through the same hell as he had... And yet, Doflamingo never got Rosinante back, never truly met his brother as an adult, not really. All Doflamingo got from Rosinante was a mask and silence, while they got everything.

All Doflamingo was given was a scrap, and lies.

So many lies.

Rosi — the one who gave his nickname to him because he couldn’t pronounce Doflamingo’s full name when he was two, shortening it into a harmless nickname full of fondness — didn’t even call him Doffy.

The first words Rosi said to him after four years of silence, after eighteen years of nothing, was his fucking marine code.

Rosi talked to him like they were strangers.

“You just had to go and screw everything up! Why did you come back just to mess with me, Corazón?!”

What Doflamingo meant by those words was: Why? Why did you come back? You should’ve stayed away from me if you hated me. Then this wouldn’t be happening! I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d stayed away from me!

The pain of betrayal is sharp and agonising.

Like a bullet.

Like red blood on white snow.

Doflamingo wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding in the same places Rosinante had, too.

Vergo’s words rang out in his head.

“Corazón has a wife.”

Doflamingo stared at the picture of you on the file Vergo sent him, staring down at your face.

At the one Rosinante gave everything to…

Finding out something like this...

It felt like... Like the first inhale of the fresh, clear sea morning, like the first bite into a feast after starving for a week, like the most pure, fresh water after a long trek in the desert.

Doflamingo thinks he understands now why Rosi didn’t stay away from him, why Rosi returned.

Because Rosi couldn’t stay away. If not for himself, then for his wife. Would Doflamingo be able to stay away, if he knew his brother was alive somewhere, with a wife, and hell, maybe planning to have a family? Would Doflamingo be the one considering a choice; stay away or meet? Cursed if you don’t, cursed if you do.

Would Doflamingo be able to do it?

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to stay away from Rosi, or from Rosi’s family. Because Doflamingo was family, too. Rosi’s family was Doflamingo’s family, too.

Just like now, Doflamingo couldn’t stay away from you. It was impossible. It felt like his own threads were pulling him toward you, urging themselves forth from his fingertips, reaching out to wrap around you, no matter how much he was sure you didn’t want them to.

Just like how Rosi couldn’t stay away from Doflamingo no matter how much he hated him, Doflamingo couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he knew you hated him.

He just couldn’t. The thought was painful to bear, the mere image of staying away threatening to shred the last remaining piece of Doflamingo’s heart held together by strings.

“Doffy?” Vergo’s voice across the snail pulled Doflamingo out of his thoughts; he was still staring at your file, at the picture of you, at your name. “What do you want to do?”

Doflamingo got out of his chair, grabbing the pink feather coat that laid on it.

“I’m going to go get her,” he said, swinging the pink mantle over his shoulders. He grabbed a quill and parchment, writing down a note for Trebol and the others to find.

He looked outside. It was early in the morning; Vergo's call and documents he sent had woken him up. It was still dark out on the sea.

“Understood,” said Vergo without question. “Safe travels, Doffy.”

Doflamingo hummed in response, and put the receiver back down on the snail. He exited his cabin, walking to the balustrade of the ship, putting his right foot atop the rail. The wind was chilly, brushing at his face.

He still had a family. Rosinante had not only left Doflamingo behind.

He left a wife behind, too.

Doflamingo took to the sky.

***

Something burns on your skin. Your eyelids flutter open; the morning light sneaks in through the curtains, casting your eyes in the ray of gold. Your brows furrow in pain from the light hitting you.

You feel empty.

You woke in the puddle of your own misery. You've cried and howled yourself into sleep on the white carpet. You don’t know when you entered inside again after releasing the howl of agony into the night sky.

The house is empty.

Rosinante isn’t home yet.

That’s okay. You’ll wait. You’ve waited before. You can wait a bit more.

Rosi will come back.

He’ll come back.

It was just a bad dream.

You curl into yourself, tired.

Rosi always comes back, no matter what.

You’ll make pancakes… and you’ll wait for Rosi. You’ll make a lot of batter so you can make him and Law loads when they come back. They’ll be hungry after their trip.

Early dawn was outside, and the blue sky was painted with clouds.

A knock came at your door. You dragged yourself to it, and opened the doors.

A dark-skinned, handsome man dressed in marine uniform and coat towered above you, twice your height, nearly three meters tall. His dark, charcoal eyes were red-rimmed, revealing he’d been crying. His usually slicked-back, tidy white hair was rumpled and untidy, as though he’d wrestled with someone.

“Wulf,” you say, staring at the tall navy commander.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse and morbidly quiet. “Can I come in?”

You open the doors wider, letting him in. Wulf closes the doors behind himself, locking them with the key in the keyhole.

“I’ll go make you some tea,” you offered, hurrying to the light blue kitchen to place the kettle on the stove and grab a tea bag

“No,” he said. “I’m not here for…” He clenched his eyes shut. His large body shuddered.

“You can sit down while I —”

“I don’t want tea, dammit!” snapped Wulf.

His yell made you flinch, and you turned still.

“Fuck,” Wulf breathed, full of pain, tears glistening at his eyelashes. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, quieting his voice. “I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Wulf’s large body slumped down, landing on the large white couch. He lowered his head to the floor. His large, dark hands lifted up to his hair, grabbing at the thick strands tight. He closed his eyes, a look of pain on his face.

“It’s okay,” you offered quietly.

There was no emotion in your dull, lifeless eyes, empty of any spark. You could see how tired Wulf was. He probably didn’t sleep a wink. He looked an absolute mess. You weren’t ready to look in the mirror to see how much of a mess you were.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Wulf spoke up. “We need to send a search party out for Law. He wasn’t the boy the Minion marine patrol took into custody.”

Search party? For Law? But that would mean… that would mean Wulf would have to explain to Sengoku who Law was.

“No,” you breathed.

“Huh?”

“Don’t you dare tell them about Law!”

Wulf’s eyes widened at the sudden surge of life in your dull eyes. You were tightly gripping the collar of his white dress shirt with both your hands, staring at him with a numerous amount of emotions filling your eyes, your face.

“If Law’s alive, they’ll go after him because he’s got the powers of the Op-Op Fruit!” you yelled at him. “Don’t you dare make Rosi’s death be for nothing!”

You froze.

Oh.

You said it.

Death.

That’s right.

Your fingers let go of Wulf’s collar.

Rosinante…

Died.

A chill swept through your body, making you shiver.

“Law,” you whisper, trying to keep yourself together, keeping your sanity stitched with the thoughts of the little boy. “We need to find Law.”

“Minion -”

“Why aren’t you and your team setting sail for it already?!” you asked desparately. What if Doflamingo sent his agents to scour the island? What if Law was...

“If I’m to ask for a marine ship, I need to give them a good reason!”

“You never did shit by the book, Wulf! That was Rosi!”

“Yeah, and I always got sent flying across Marineford by Sengoku for it, or did you forget that part?”

“I’ll call the patrol on Minion and tell them to look for Law.”

“No!” you yelled. “Doflamingo’s got a spy in the Navy! He’ll find out Law’s still there and find him before you!”

You could see Wulf’s thoughts racing in his head. “Then, I’ll send Hibou -”

“Hibou doesn’t fly fast enough! You can’t send him there alone! Law doesn’t trust marines!”

Wulf hesitated. “It took me and Rosi longer than a day to activate our Devil Fruits… Law might not be…”

“Law is a genius!” you yelled. “He’s going to be the best doctor in the world! Some stupid disease won’t kill him!”

Law was not dead. Your husband believed in Law, and you believed in Law, too. That kid was strong. Stronger than you were.

Law had fallen asleep reading on your lap. You put a blanket over him, but anytime you tried to remove yourself from him, the boy would murmur disagreeably, clutching onto your pants with his tiny fingers in his sleep. Rosinante cooed over him, snapping a few pictures of Law — and some of the two of you — with the camera snail because you two were the most adorable sight on the planet, according to the younger Donquixote. But you could see it in his brown eyes. Rosinante was worried sick for Law.

“Don’t worry, Rosi,” you said, reaching out with your free hand — the other one was running gently down Law’s dark hair — to take your husband’s much larger one, settling it over his scarred, pale palm.

“Our boy is too strong to die,” you said firmly.

The touch and words appeared to break Rosinante out of the pit of his thoughts, the blond man sitting beside you turning to look at you, wide-eyed.

“Our?” asked Rosinante in a whisper.

“What?” you asked, blinking.

Rosinante sniffled. His eyes glazed over, his lips trembling. Before you could see what was wrong with him, the blond turned away from you shyly.

“Rosi, are you crying?” you asked, worried.

“N-No!” squeaked the big, blond man, hiding his face in the pillow of the white couch of the home you shared, wiping at his teary eyes. “No, what are you talking about? I’m not crying!”

You smiled softly, a swell of affection blooming within you, overwhelmed by love you felt for him. Rosinante was so kind and gentle, with a truly bleeding heart. It was one of the reasons you fell in love with him on first sight — his kindness and clumsiness won you over right away.

“Our, huh?” murmured Rosinante softly.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, making sure there was no question about it. You were willing to die for the boy sleeping on your lap. You were willing to fight the entire world for this boy, were willing to die for him. “He’s our boy now.”

“Yeah.” The smile lit up Rosinante’s face, casting him in heavenly light; he looked like an angel, his soft brown eyes staring gently down at the sleeping boy. “He is.”

“Our treasure.” whispered Rosinante, reaching down to caress Law’s cheek with his fingers.

Wulf took a breath.

“Okay. If there is a spy, as you say, I’ll call Sengoku-san directly to lock down Rosi’s file.” Wulf shuddered. He looked down at you, full of worry. “If Doflamingo finds out about you, he’ll come to kill you. I’ll put Nietzche and Hibou on patrol around this island, and the rest of us will head to Minion -”

“No,” you said, something burning inside you. The next words came out of your mouth on instinct. “Use me as a lure.”

Wulf’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Use me as a lure,” you said, meeting Wulf’s gaze. “It’ll keep Doflamingo’s attention off of Minion Island long enough for you to get Law away. If Doflamingo comes, he comes. I know how to shoot a gun.”

Wulf frowned, disliking the idea entirely. “You don’t know what he’s -”

“Doflamingo killed him.”

The words are out. Because both of you knew. You and Wulf knew Rosinante wouldn’t get killed so easily. Nobody could kill Rosinante except Doflamingo, because Rosinante would have fought them tooth and nail, and there was no way anyone on Minion Island could have given Rosinante trouble — not even those top executives — except Doflamingo.

If it came down to having to directly hurt Doflamingo, you knew Rosinante wouldn’t be able to do it. You never faulted him for it. In fact, you loved him for it. You would never ask Rosinante to do such a thing, even if your own life was on the line. You’d rather die than force him to make such a choice, to even think about it.

Rosinante loved his brother more than anything, no matter what.

But it seemed Doflamingo loved power more than he loved Rosinante.

It sickened you. It infuriated you. Rosinante could never hurt Doflamingo, not for duty, not for revenge, not for anything. So how could Doflamingo hurt Rosinante?

“His only family… And Rosi told me enough to get a glimpse of what his brother is like. So if he finds out, he finds out. He’ll come here, and you all - all six of you, will go to Minion Island while he wastes time coming here, and you’ll take Law away from there.”

For a moment, Wulf said nothing, simply staring at you with his dark, black eyes, momentarily surprised by your words.

“You… aren’t trying to follow Rosi, are you? Because you know… you know he’d want you to stay alive, to take care of that kid.”

Chills rose on your spine, but they weren’t of fear. You didn’t raise your head. You simply lifted your eyes to Wulf’s, and let him see what was within them.

It wasn’t sadness, or a wish for death. It was determination, burning and fierce, mixed with burning fury.

Wulf sighed in defeat. He could tell by your eyes you weren’t going to back down from this.

“I’ll call in some favours for a ship. I’ll call you when I have everything ready.”

Wulf said your name.

“He killed my brother in arms.” said Wulf darkly. “It’s not just you or me who wants him dead.”

Wulf turned his head over his shoulder to gaze at you, his eyes full of bloodlust. “The crows are hungry for Doflamingo’s blood.”

“Shut the door after me,” Wulf said, then left.

You did just that. You walked back to the kitchen, breathing in and out. Your stomach felt empty. You needed to eat something.

Pancakes.

If it’s going to be your last meal, you want it to be a good one. Therefore, the pancakes with chocolate syrup is the best decision for the last meal. An easy, simple meal.

Your fingers tremble.

You can’t believe Rosinante is gone.

Simply… gone.

How are you supposed to wake up tomorrow knowing Rosinante will never be lying beside you again?

Tears well in your eyes. You take a breath, swallowing them down. You’re not allowed to cry again. Not yet. Not until you know Law is safe.

You head up the stairs to change from your night dress, heading back to yours and your husband’s bedroom. You survey your wardrobe.

Before you know it, you’re opening Rosinante’s part of the wardrobe, taking one of his blue shirts from the hanger, hugging it tight to your chest.

You kept holding on to the calm you got with him. You hold onto the scent of him you’ve come to know; coal and citrus, woody smells that he always wore that felt like a hug around your shoulders.

For a while, you sit on the bed, holding your husband’s shirt, trying to pretend he was there when you knew he wasn’t. Eventually, you returned back to the terrible reality, and put his dress shirt back on the hanger.

Light blue. You decide if you are going to get killed by your brother-in-law today, you want to die in light blue. It was Rosi’s favourite colour, and you grew a love for it over the years. You need somewhere to conceal a weapon. You grab black pants, put the light blue blouse over yourself, and get dressed.

You open the drawer in your night table, staring down at the small, black revolver. You pick it up, check the safety hammer is on, then check the cylinder holding six sea stone prism bullets. Loaded, ready to be fired.

You holster it under your blouse, making sure you can reach it quickly.

It’s silent. So silent.

You’ve never heard silence quite this loud.

You head to the kitchen to make the pancakes. You wished you’d made them before Wulf arrived; he needed something to eat.

The day is sunny, the birds are chirping in the trees. But there is a somber, mourning silence in your house. You gather the bowl to crack the eggs in and make the batter.

Rosi would already be stumbling out of your bedroom by now, dressed in his blue striped pyjamas, his blue sleeping hat atop his head, his sleepy face endearing in a handsome way, his blond waves of bed head swept in all directions, his hands rubbing the sleep off his eyes before he stretched his arms out and yawned to the point tears edged at his lower eyelashes.

Then, he’d see you and smile like the sun before greeting you with a happy, sweet, “Good morning!”

You look out of the window. The scenery in front of you is so vibrant, green forest and blue river. Doesn’t it know all your life has died? The most colourful painting is worthless to you.

You make the batter without having to think too much about it, so used to the movements they became second nature to you, just as fighting was second nature to Rosinante. You start the stove, listen to the clicking sound of the fire, adjust it, and set the frying pain on it, spreading butter along it. Then, you pour the batter in. The smell of the pancakes soothes you, and once the side is fried well, you flip it, and wait for the bubbles again.

They remind you of gunshot wounds.

Twenty gunshot wounds. Were they all from Doflamingo’s flintlock? Did the fucking bastard put twenty bullets in your husband, treating your husband like he was swiss cheese?

You set the first pancake on the plate, and make twenty more. You take the chocolate syrup and spread it over each one thoroughly with a butter knife, then roll the pancakes. You sprinkle sugar over them, and serve them at the center of the table.

“Look, Law! Pancakes!” cheered Rosinante happily to the little boy with the spotted hat trailing after his long legs like a baby penguin after its father; you held back a giggle at the two sleepyheads, smiling gently at them. 

Rosinante greeted you with a kiss, getting a “get a room!” from Law, and then he sat down at the table and inhaled the smell of the pancakes. 

“Ah, they smell so good, dear!” said Rosinante, smiling brightly at you.

“Come on, Law! Don’t be shy!” said Rosinante, patting the chair next to his. “This is my wife’s masterpiece! After you taste her pancakes, you’ll never want to eat anything else for the rest of your life! You can live on pancakes!”

“You can’t live on pancakes,” grumbled Law.

“Well, if you do end up liking them and want more, I’ve got more batter in the bowl, so I’ll make you more if you want, okay, Law?” you asked.

Law blushed. “Thank… you…”

You glanced at Rosinante questioningly, speaking with your eyes to him. Did Law not have pancakes with the Donquixote Pirates? Rosinante shook his head sadly, in a way that told you Law didn’t let himself be a kid, so he never ate ‘kid stuff’ like pancakes. 

Tentatively, Law took the rolled up pancake, and after glancing to Rosinante, who was eating his own with his hands — the pancake looked miniature in your husband’s fingers, almost like a toy — chomping down on the roll enthusiastically, Law did the same.

You nearly squealed from the cuteness as you watched the two eat.

Law’s eyes widened after the first bite, and then they lit up, filling with light. A small, tiny smile bloomed across his face, and he stared at the pancake with child-like joy.

There he was. A little boy, not a tough, pirate apprentice.

Law quickly devoured the pancake, the little smile on his face filling you with joy. You smiled happily.

Once Law realised he’d eaten the single pancake he took, he glanced from the plate, then toward you, and asked, “Can I have another?”

Rosinante cooed. “You can have my entire plate, you cute little pancake!”

To prove how much he meant it, Rosinante slid his plate of a pile of rolled-up pancakes to the little boy.

Law scowled, though to you it looked more like a cute, indignant pout with his cheeks puffed up that way.

“I’m not a pancake, Cora-san!” Law protested, for which he got a fond chuckle from Rosinante, who simply beamed down at him.

You giggled. They were so cute.

“Of course. You can have as much as you want, Law.” you said softly, smiling gently at the boy.

Law nodded, that little smile sneaking onto his face again.

You stared at the plate loaded with twenty rolled-up pancakes.

You made too much.

Tears started flowing down your eyes again, uncontrollable and wet. You wipe them from your cheeks, sniffling. But they keep coming out, so you let them cascade down your cheeks, letting them roll in silence as you sit down, murmur a sob-filled, “Thank you for the food.” and grab one pancake from the plate and force yourself to eat it.

The taste is great. But your taste buds can’t appreciate it. You start sobbing halfway, and your hands slide up to your face, covering your eyes. You rest your head on the dining room table and cry your eyes out into your forearms, hiccups and sobs shaking your body.

You can’t do this. You can’t do this. You can’t, you can’t...

It hurts too much. You're going to be sick —

Rosi... Rosi!

Your cries and sobs echo across the kitchen tiles, creating a tragic symphony.

After you’d cried yourself out to the point your chest hurts and your throat feels sore, you eat the pancake to the end.

Outside, the azure sky is impossibly clear. The cicadas are so loud. They make the loss of Rosinante’s silence more deafening. You’ve always had too sensitive and too precise of a hearing; you could hear droplets from a well ten meters away, and the slightest rustling of the leaves in the wind. You could pick up who was approaching you by the sound and weight of their footsteps — a thing that freaked some people out. It wasn’t any devil fruit; you stayed away from devil fruits because you had no need of them working as a translator for the marines, and you liked to swim.

Rosinante told you it could be a form of Observation Haki. Apparently, the advanced, one-in-a-million Observation Haki users are able to hear people’s inner voices. That sounded absolutely terrifying to you. How didn’t people go insane with that? It wasn’t an ability you wanted, and thankfully, your hearing didn’t seem to reach that crazy, abnormal level.

Rosinante was practically your sound therapy with his Devil Fruit. He made the world around you go silent, muted all the noises, be it the spinning of a washing machine, the shrieking of the birds, the insistent meowing of an alley cat, the barking dogs, the annoying cicadas that you thought about committing arson over by setting the entire forest on fire…

“Honey, that’s illegal. Also, I’m the one usually setting fire to stuff, it’s my whole thing!” Rosinante was genuinely distressed. He gave you a pleading look, pursing his lips, which started to quiver and tremble, his eyes filling with tears as he cried — his sad puppy look,which immediately melted your heart, making you coo internally. He was absolutely adorable. “You can’t do my thing!”

Rosinante snapped his fingers. “Silent!”

A purple sphere came alive, momentrily floating above his finger, and then enlarged, pulling the two of you into its space. All sound from outside vanished.

You launched yourself at him and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs around his wide waist. “I love you, Rosi! I love your Devil Fruit!”

Rosinante’s face grew deeper shades of red by the passing second, until, quite literally, the gathered temperature exploded in a burst of steam out of his ears, and your husband combusted into flames.

“I love you!” he yelled, peppering you with kisses, pulling you onto his lap, making you giggle and laugh. You squeezed your tall husband’s back as much as the length of your arms allowed you to.

“I love you more,” you said, staring up at him lovingly.

“Nuh-uh,” said Rosinante, his face turning serious. “I love you mo —”

You shut him up with a kiss, burying your fingers in his soft, silky golden hair, pulling him down to you.

Rosinante smiled into the kiss, admitted defeat, and enveloped your lips in a deep, long kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your head, his fingers warm and sweet on your cheek.

In the end, with how breathless and flushed Rosinante left you, you thought you were the defeated one in the end.

You can’t take it anymore. You want out. Out of this house that is full of memories of the happiness you two had, of so much potential, now silent like a grave.

You get your bag, grab some cash to buy groceries to make for lunch. Rosinante wouldn’t want you to wallow in misery, much less not eat. He was always fussy about making sure you ate, always insisting on serving you seconds, and you knew why. It broke your heart.

You reach the small port town, passing by people, your eyes unfocused, lost in memories. Your feet are leading you somewhere, a familiar path which you and Rosinante took many times.

You remembered when he surprised you the first time he managed to sneak away after completing his first mission for Doflamingo ahead of schedule, bearing you gifts, unaware his presence was the greatest gift to you of all.

In the early morning, your husband dragged you out of bed for a “surprise”. It would have been a normal, endearing, funny wake-up call if your husband’s arm wasn’t nearly the length of your entire body. Being dragged out of bed by Rosinante’s excited arm felt like being launched by a slingshot from one point to another.  And of course, the landing point ended up being Rosinante’s body, and because it was Donquixote Rosinante, he failed to consider his own pull strength — once again, slingshot fast — and that was how you ended up falling on his chest. He, of course, as the good marine he was, caught you so you don’t get hurt, and once more failed to take another of his natural skills into account.

His clumsiness. 

With a shriek as panicked as your own — albeit for different reasons — Rosinante moved to catch you, tripped midway and fell forward at the same time as you impacted him, and you ended up crashing into him midway on his fall, and he fell on his back rather than his front, you atop his chest. 

After you two looked at each other to check the other was okay, the two of you burst out into giggles on the floor.

Rosinante excitedly told you to get dressed (you chose a white summer dress), brought his backpack and led you through the island by the hand, still dressed in his pirate outfit of white trousers, pink shirt and black feather coat, smiling the entire way. You loved the feather coat, and you couldn’t help but comment how he and Doflamingo were now truly “bird brothers”. The look Rosinante gave you at that comment made you laugh for a minute straight, especially when he dramatically pulled off his purple sunglasses to blink at you repeatedly.

You two walked for a while. You told Rosinante about your days, how everyone was very helpful and welcoming, and let him know about the invitation for a barbeque party tomorrow, and Rosinante agreed — he did have to meet the other marines on the island, along with their families. 

Rosinante came to a stop in front of a steep hill. 

“It’s right up this way,” said Rosinante, smiling in that adorable way that made him even more handsome. “I’ll carry you up.”

You gulped.

“Are you sure you can trek this, Rosinante?” you asked, holding some doubts. You’d seen your husband fall down the entire fifty meter flight of stone stairs of Marineford like a bouncing ball many times when you met him, and this hill had plenty of rocky, dirt-covered terrain.

You could already imagine Rosinante rolling down it like a pancake covered in black feathers. Or... Like an ostrich.

This hill and forest looked like something for hikers, and no offense to Rosinante, but he and hiking don’t go hand in hand, so your hesitation was well-founded.

“Yup,” said Rosinante, beaming down at you. “Up you go, mi amor.”

Without much arguing from you — because you’d never refuse being carried bridal style by your favourite man in the world, falling to your death be damned — he perched down, bending his knees to be at your height, and picked you up carefully, one hand under your knees, the other on your back.

It’s comfortable. Rosinante is warm, his long, strong arms cradling you close to his chest like the most precious treasure, and you feel like a princess swathed in the black feathers of his feather coat and his embrace. You close your eyes, resting your head on his chest, on the soft fabric of his pink dress shirt scattered with hearts.

Rosinante started uphill, trekking upon the soil with the confidence of a man who braved deep snow, heavy rain and thick mud many times throughout his life. Large, lush pine trees towered around you, the forest rich with fresh air that mixed with the soft coal scent of your husband. You pass by moss-covered rocks, glimpse squirrels curiously looking down at the giant, lanky blond man from their branches high above, chipping away at pine cones and walnuts in their tiny fingers. Their big brown eyes reminded you of Rosinante’s. After five minutes of Rosinante climbing uphill, the terrain turns flat, and he walks through the thicketed vegetation, the leaves of high bushes and branches brushing across his waist. Sunlight sneaks through the canopy of the trees, touching you and him occasionally, dappling you two in warm light.

“Okay,” said Rosinante. “I’ll put you down now.”

After he puts you down to the ground, Rosinante takes your hand, twining his long fingers between the spaces of yours, and leads you through the maze of greenery, further and further, deeper into the forest, where it becomes more quiet with every step. His long fingers, tucked between yours, holding your hand tight, chase away any anxiety or insecurity you might feel in the new, unknown surrounding.

A high, towering wall of leaves and shrubs conceals your view to whatever lies ahead.

“Close your eyes.”

You chuckle, but do so.

“Wait here,” Rosinante told you. “Don’t open your eyes!”

You laugh. “I won’t.”

You put your free hand over your closed eyes to reassure him of it.

Rosinante’s long fingers — calloused from training, falling and scarred from all the battles he won and survived — slide out of the embrace of yours.

You wait for a few minutes, wondering what sort of surprise he must have for you. You couldn’t hear anything. Rosinante must have used his Devil Fruit so you can’t hear what he’s doing. All you can hope for is that your sweet husband’s ‘surprise’ doesn’t involve anything flammable.

“Okay!” Rosinante chirped behind you, making you shriek and leap at the sudden revelation of his presence, which made him chuckle. “Ready?”

You peek through your fingers to look at him. Rosinante’s smile and excitement is infectious, making you smile to the point your cheeks hurt.

“Yup,” you said.

“Hey!" your husband scolds when he notices your eyes between the tiny space of your fingertips. “No peeking!”

You huff, but relent, covering your eyes fully again.

Rosinante takes your hand, and leads you forward. You keep your eyes closed. Leaves brush over your face, and you feel the warmth of the sunlight on your skin again.

“Okay... Three... Two...”

“One.”

You opened your eyes, gasping at the sight. In front of you and Rosinante was a blooming field of blue forget-me-nots, forming a large circle around the pine forest.

There, among the blue flowers, was a picnic blanket, a picnic basket filled with food atop it.

A giddy smile on his face, pleased with your joy at his successful surprise, Rosinante led you by the hand toward the picnic blanket where all the food awaited.

You two sit down beside each other. You can’t speak; you’re completely speechless.

Rosinante had made you an entire feast; there were rice balls, black bean soup, chocolate cream cakes, muffins with chocolate chips, grilled toast with melted cheese that made your mouth water at the mere sight of it, blackberries and black risotto with chopped cuttlefish meat. 

Rosinante was by no means a lousy cook, in fact, he was quite good at cooking (you were surprised by it the first time, too, especially when he told you he spent a lot of time cooking with Sengoku when he was a kid) but he had to be monitored so he doesn’t set the entire house on fire.

When you opened the container holding the black risotto, hot steam surged out. The black risotto smelled absolutely heavenly. It tasted heavenly, too — it was the perfect amount of ingredients and flavours that you moaned aloud.

Dear gods, Rosinante’s black risotto was to die for. It was one of the meals both you and your husband enjoyed, eating it at a restaurant in Marineford every Friday on your lunch break together even before you’d started dating. The black colouring of the food was due to the squid ink used in the recipe. You both loved it so much that it became your go-to food to make.

Rosinante pulled out a champagne bottle from the basket, further impressing you.

“I snatched this one from Doffy’s liquor cabinet. 1480.” Rosinante smirked smugly, waving the bottle victoriously. “He should’ve drank it while he could.”

You laughed. Rosinante may not talk good things about his brother, but stealing liquor from his brother was a very sibling thing to do. It was clear Rosinante loved pulling pranks on Doflamingo.

While Rosinante said this, removing the golden foil, distractedly unwinding the cage, his eyes focused on you, he forgot to move the bottle away from himself.

The cork launched out of the seal with a loud pop. By some stroke of luck, the cork missed hitting Rosinante’s head, but the golden liquor bursting with bubbles did not. After you heard the satisfying pop, all you could do was stare in shock as champagne sprayed your husband in the face.

His golden waves of hair sogged like a wet dog’s, sparkling liquid running down his cheeks, trailing across his pale neck, sliding down his collarbone and over his chest, staining his wet shirt.

“Rosi!” you cried. “Are you okay?”

Rosinante laughed softly, rich and warm.

“I’m okay,” he replied, looking down at you in that tender, gentle way that filled your heart and made butterflies fly in your stomach.

His long tongue flicked out, licking along his lips, tasting the champagne he spilled. You feel your face flush when you realise you’d looked at his tongue attentively.

“Tastes good,” he said.

You chuckled fondly, watching champagne drip from his golden bangs. “I’m sure it does.”

“Does it smell good?” he asked as you reached for a towel in the basket. You sat between his sprawled, spread out, long legs, brushing off the liquid you could spot.

“Yeah,” you said, chuckling, continuing to pat his face and shirt. It smelled fresh. “It does.”

Rosinante smiled goofily. He gave you your glass, then poured the champagne, and next poured it to himself in his own.

“What do we toast to?” he asked.

“Love and health?” you suggested.

“Love and health!” agreed Rosinante. “Salud!”

“Salud!”

The two of you clinked your champagne glasses together, then drank a few sips of champagne. Rosinante took two large gulps of it instead of humble sips.

When the plastic plates were all cleaned up and the food was gone, stored away in your stomachs, you asked him the question you had since the start of this surprise date, “When did you cook all this?”

“After you fell asleep.” Rosinante’s long arms wrapped around you, a movement he started doing by instinct with how many times he’d done it. You leaned back into him, sinking into his embrace, comfortable between his legs. “The muffins and chocolate cakes are bought. I bought them first thing in the morning, while you were still sleeping.”

You smiled; your husband had always been sneaky, both literally and figuratively.

The blond hung his head sullenly, looking like a sad puppy. He puffed out smoke to the side, mindful not to blow it in your face. “Sorry, my love. I’m no good at baking…”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you said, leaning into his strong body and planting a kiss on his cheek, which made him perk up, a sweet blush painting his cheeks, soon followed by his goofy smile. “And what you did cook is delicious, as were the cakes and muffins you bought.”

“Thank you, Rosinante.” you said, full of joy. “This is beautiful.”

Rosinante chuckled, a charming, gentle, yet deep sound. It made your heart race in your chest. It still didn’t feel real that this wonderful man was yours. The knowledge of it rushed goosebumps up your spine.

To think you’d find a true prince charming in this world. He had come straight down from heaven and accidentally bumped right into you. He was straight out of a fairytale, brown eyes and golden locks of wavy hair tickling his earlobes.

Rosinante looks so pretty, like an angel.

“It’s nothing to thank me for.” Rosinante’s long fingers laced between the spaces of yours, his wedding ring pressing against yours. “You always take care of me. It's my job to take care of you, too, you know. It’s nice to be away from Marineford. I get you all to myself.”

Rosinante’s lips lifted into a sly, flirtatious smile, his eyes lowering to your lips, a hint of hunger flashing in his brown eyes. “And we’re all alone… this place is pretty well hidden.”

You picked up on his meaning and smiled brightly. Your hand slid up his chest, carefully tracing along the hearts on the pink fabric, along his strong, firm shoulder, brushing against his nape, sliding up into the blond, golden curls of his soft hair, running your fingers through it slowly. All the while, Rosinante’s body leaned closer and closer to yours like a magnet of north finding its south, his large hand settling on the middle of your back, pulling you flush to him, towering over you, until all you could see, smell and breathe was him.

“Is that so, commander…” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze with half-lidded eyes.

Rosinante cradled your chin between his thumb and index finger, brought your face up to his, his half-lidded eyes soft and hungry, a charming curve of his lips rendering you breathless. Your breath hitched, staring into his intense gaze — in that moment, you saw the heavenly, commanding intensity inside your husband’s seductive eyes, lighting a fire in your chest. You were being looked at by a real god.

Rosinante kissed you, soft and deep.

“I’m back,” you say to the empty field of blue flowers.

You lay down among the field of the blue forget-me-nots and close your eyes, hoping the flowers will swallow you. Hoping they will enter your lungs, suffocate you, and end you, give you your last, final, living breath. Your tears soak the blue petals of the flowers you and Rosinante used to lay among.

Rosinante used to lie right here beside you, the halo of his blond curly hair shining among the blue blossoms.

Now, there is only the gaping hole of sorrow, a void. An emptiness. You don’t feel anything.

You closed your eyes, clutching Rosinante’s picture tightly between your fingers. You lay there on your side, crying silently among the blue petals where you and your husband once laid together.

No one ever told you that grief feels like fear. You are not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same terrible sinking in the stomach, the same restlessness, the same yawning hole.

It sinks in.

Rosinante isn’t coming home to you.

***

“Excuse me?”

The owner of the flower shop jumped at the deep voice. She turned, and had to look up, and then had to look up more, and then some more, and stared at a handsome man with blond, spiked-up hair, dressed in a red suit with a red tie, sunglasses concealing his eyes.

“Do you know where the Donquixote residence is?” the man asked.

“If you’re looking for Commander Rosinante, he’s away on marine business.”

The stranged blinked - or at least, she assumed he did, by his expression.

“You don’t know?” the exceptionally tall man asked.

“Know what, sir?”

“Rosinante is dead,” the blond man in the red suit delivers the terrible news bluntly, calmly, without any deep emotion, as though he’s telling her about the weather; it reminds her of veteran marines who have seen too much death and have grown used to it. He is staring down at her, into her eyes, with a serious look.

“Oh goodness!” the florist cried, eyes wide. “That poor man... When did it happen?”

“Yesterday evening,” said the blond man blatantly, his voice still calm, his expression still serious. “The news coo hasn’t flown out yet, so only the marines and family know for now. He’ll be in the obituary today or tomorrow.”

“I see... So you’re looking for —”

“His wife,” said the man.

The florist pursed her lips. The man with the unnerving resemblance to Commander Rosinante, despite being devilishly handsome and appearing not to have a single evil bone in his body or hold any malicuious intent, was still a stranger to her.

“Please,” the man with the hair the colour of the yellow primroses says, a desperation in his face. “I’d like to surprise her. Cheer her up. We haven’t seen each other a long time. She shouldn’t be alone.”

The flower shop owner’s heart throbbed at the words and the look of raw pain on the tall man’s face. She had no idea Commander Rosinante had died… and yesterday evening, at that… That was why you’d been wandering around aimlessly, like you were a ghost not meant fo stay in the world. You must have gotten the news… you poor thing.

“Mrs Donquixote lives in a house near the river,” said the shop owner. She pointed to the right end of the cobblestone street. “You take a right there, then a left. It’s a bit farther in the richer district, but that’s the sort of accomodations a Commander and his wife deserve. I can’t believe he's gone… He was such a wonderful man. His son will be devastated.”

The tall man tensed up, flinching.

(In that moment, Donquixote Doflamingo experienced a small heart attack thinking he was an uncle and there was a baby with you — his brother’s baby.)

“...son?” he breathed; his entire tone of voice changing, he sounded shocked and hesitant.

“This little boy. Law, I think. ” The man’s body slumped, as though he was relieved. “He was the sweetest thing. Quiet, but what sick child wouldn’t be? He always clung to Commander Rosinante when I saw them in town. No doubt Commander took him from the battlefield. I suppose he took the boy to the marines to try to find his parents, or to ensign him into the force.”

The blond man’s lips twitched slightly. “I see… Thank you for the help.”

The man turned to leave.

“She likes primroses,” blurted the shop owner. She glanced to the man’s glazed-up hair, and then to the yellow primroses - Mrs Donquixote’s favourite flowers - and was struck dumb.

The sharply dressed man’s blond hair was the exact same colour as the flowers.

“Like your hair, sir.”

“My hair?” asked the man.

The florist nodded. “Yellow primroses.”

The man smiles, and once more, the woman is hit by how similar to Commander Rosinante he looks - so similar he could be his brother! What a strange resemblance!

“Then, a bouquet of yellow primroses, please,” says the man dressed in the merlot suit, handing over a bill of five thousand berri. “And keep the change.”

“Oh, no, no, dear.” she said with a shake of her head, arranging the bouquet of yellow flowers, not taking the offered bill. “You keep your money. Just get her these, all right?”

The man’s mouth opened in a slight ‘o’, and he stared at her in surprise. He looked goofy, and so similar to the same expression Commander Rosinante made when he was shocked or taken by surprise.

However, he nodded, accepting the flowers.

“And... stay by her side.” The florist said. “Don’t let her be alone.”

An emotion crossed the man’s tanned, handsome face; he looked like he was in pain.

The blond man pulls the bouquet of yellow flowers to his chest, his long, puppeteer-like fingers holding them protectively.

“I will,” he promised.

He turned and left in the direction of the Donquixote residence. The florist was unable to keep her eyes off of him. What a sharp-looking, well-dressed man…

And so handsome! Oh, if she was only thirty years younger, she would have definitely asked him for his transponder snail number, or whatever the youth use these days.

***

The moment he was out of the small town, Doflamingo used his strings and flew high into the air, using the same basic of given directions to locate your house.

It didn’t take him long to find the river, and as he approached the flatlands of the island, he saw many houses scattered around. Probably those of families of retired high-ranking marine officers and their families. likely from other high-ranked retired marines and their families.

Doflamingo landed in front of the wooden fence surrounding a garden. A white, two-story house stood down the garden.

Doflamingo saw rows of cabbages beside the dirt path, their green leaves shielding the plant’s head. There was a roofed porch leading to the entrance doors. The garden fence didn’t even reach to his knees. Doflamingo stepped over it.

It looked rather a lot like a farmhouse, but without the farm — Doflamingo would have heaved if there were farm animals around being used for sustenance — and with the garden and yard.

A crow gave a caw. Doflamingo turned to the sound, and nearly cut a human-like silhouette’s head off with his strings.

It was a scarecrow. Not any scarecrow. Doflamingo stood eye-level with it, staring at the shiny red sunglasses, white dress shirt and white capri pants with red flame patterns the scarecrow of hay wore.

Doflamingo’s lips twitched; he felt like laughing, and barely withheld it not to make any noise. It was certainly a likeness.

Corazón must have stolen one of his sunglasses for it.

Chuckling, Doflamingo prowled toward the porch, and stood in front of the entrance doors.

Should he knock?

Doflamingo smiled maliciously, full of menace.

No.

Donquixote Doflamingo, hands in the pockets of his merlot suit pants, kicked down the doors of his sister-in-law’s house.

“Honey, I’m home!” he called.

The only sound in the space lit by the windows letting the light in was the whoosh of the curtains.

“Huh…?”

She isn’t even home to be surprised!

Scoffing in annoyance at his entrance being ruined by not having you witness it, Doflamingo entered through the door frame into the living room lit by natural light coming from the curtains.

“Tch.”

Guess she’s still in town. Did she go to buy groceries for lunch?

“Hm?”

A large picture caught his attention.

Oh.

You’re beautiful.

It was a picture of you, Rosinante, and Law. All of you are smiling at the camera, showing the peace sign. Doflamingo stares at his little brother’s big smile, because it’s the first time he sees it on him, having never seen it on his brother as an adult.

Doflamingo’s mouth forms into a sneer.

Thinking you could have your cake and eat it too, huh, Corazón? You bastard. You liar. You traitor.

Doflamingo exhaled. It didn’t matter anymore. Your husband’s sins were not yours. His brother already paid for his betrayal, and Doflamingo had forgiven him for it. You were a Donquixote by marriage with his brother, therefore, you were under Doflamingo’s protection, and the only real family he had left. As the head of the Donquixote family, since your husband was gone, your care, happiness and health were Doflamingo’s responsibility now. In Mariejois, the head of the family is expected to care for the close family members such as this. Celestial Dragons leave no family behind. If you and Doflamingo were in Holy Land, he would do the same; do anything to provide for you, take you into his home, care for you.

By Celestial traditions and rules of the Holy Land, you belong to Doflamingo now.

Doflamingo frowns. It’s an entire life here, in these pictures. A life Doflamingo never knew about, never asked about. Because he’d trusted his little brother.

A life Doflamingo was completely left out of.

Reading about the Fleet Admiral adopting his brother was one thing, seeing his little brother, dressed in marine cadet garb, shyly looking at the camera with Sengoku’s hand on his shoulder was another. More people started appearing in the pictures as his brother grew, as he got leaner and stronger, as he cut his bangs not to cover his eyes anymore, and eventually, you were in the pictures with his brother, too — it was so unbearably obvious you two were going to be together by the way you two smiled, by the way you held each other, your body languages speaking with the way you leaned toward each other — that when he arrived to the single photo of the two of you in the living room in Water 7 (undoubtedly tyour honeymoon destination), it felt like you and his brother had been married way before he wore his wedding suit and you your wedding dress.

Doflamingo climbed up the stairs towards the bedrooms. He needed to know what sort of clothes you liked to wear.

The master bedroom was large, walls painted sky blue, with a large three meter long bed in the middle, and a large white wardrobe.

Doflamingo scoffed, unimpressed. What a dump of a master bedroom. Is this where the magic was supposed to happen? It wasn’t very magical to Doflamingo. It looked like any plain bedroom in the taverns he stayed in.

Doflamingo walked to the closet, and opened it. There was no walk-in closet here. What a disgrace. This isn't how their mother raised them to treat their spouses.

The clothes in your wardrobe were so ordinary... so plain...

Well, it didn’t matter. Doflamingo was going to buy proper clothes for a beautiful woman like you.

Curiousity got the better of him, and he opened his brother’s wardrobe.

Ten pristinely white marine coats hung from the clothing rack, paired with blue dress shirts.

That was a lot of coats.

Doflamingo let out a snort, shaking his head at his brother’s affliction to set his clothes on fire. Some things never change. Whoever thought giving his little brother a lighter was a good idea must have been a madman.

Donquixote Rosinante, commander of the most deadly assassination and spy unit of the marines, the Crow Corps. Doflamingo had heard about them, but never knew their identities - they were thought not to exist, really. For all his years in the underworld, Doflamingo never encountered them — or maybe he had, and was not aware of it.

The Crow Corps were a myth, a story to scare the sailors with, a marine legend pirates talked about when something went incredibly amiss in intelligence gathering and the underworld.

“Must’ve been the Crow Corps.”

“Beware the Crow Corps, they’re the marines’ eyes and ears; they can hear you through the thickest walls and see you in the darkest shadow.”

Doflamingo would have felt proud of his brother’s achievements if he didn’t see how dim-witted his baby brother really was, throwing all of his hard work away to save Law.

After checking your shirt, dress, skirts, pants and shoe sizes, he also pulled out a few bras to get an insight on your bra size — he needed to know it be able to buy you proper, nice undergarments, not this cotton, wire bullshit — he started scouring boxes in Rosinante’s wardrobe. Maybe he’d find some information on the marines there, a blueprint, a floor plan, sailing routes, anything really. Instead, all he found was Rosinante’s official documents, and the copy of the marriage contract. You two had even gotten a house in Marineford free of charge. He was surprised how well the marines took care of their families, but it wasn’t new. Better to encourage families and support them so they give you more little marines to train and send out to get killed in battle.

Doflamingo took your personal documents from your nightstand’s drawer. You’d need those with him. Registrating your identity again would be a risk — he didn’t plan on letting you off the ship the first two weeks, little less to risk taking you to a registration office for you to get your identity card again. Putting them into his pocket, he also folded the only single good file of clothing that fit his standards — a beautiful light blue silk dress — and put that into the pocket of his feather coat, too.

With that done, he left the master bedroom, and headed back downstairs into the open living room and kitchen, and started scouring through the drawers in the living room, too. He paused when he found a video snail, with writing on its shell.

Our Wedding

Footage. Of his little brother’s wedding.

Doflamingo took the snail from the shelf, pulled down the projector screen on the wall opposite of the large white couch, and set up the snail. He sat down on the couch and turned the snail on.

The first thing he saw was the man standing beside his brother as his brother’s best man.

That was the crazy zoan shithead that attacked him ten years ago.

Doflamingo clenched his teeth, his chest inflated as he inhaled in fury. The blood vessels on his forehead exposed themselves, throbbing along with his rage. He wanted to break something.

That one? That half-Lunarian scum was Rosi’s best man instead of Doflamingo?

It seemed Rosinante had abandoned him as a brother way before he tried to destroy his life.

But Doflamingo had never abandoned Rosinante. He’d trusted him. He’d loved him. Rosinante was his precious, sweet little brother, the one he trusted the most in the entire world, the one person nobody — nobody — was allowed to hurt. And what did Doflamingo get for trusting him, for protecting him, for loving him, because who else if not his brother by blood, who else if not his equal, his fellow god?

All his plans nearly ruined, Law fleeing after eating the Op-Op Fruit, and his little brother pointing a gun at him.

In the end, after all that, after screwing everything up, aware of what he’d done, how he’d betrayed him... Rosinante didn’t even have the guts to do it to the end and pull the fucking trigger.

Doflamingo returned his attention to the projection on the wall.

His brother was dressed in the usual wedding marine outfit; soft light blue suit, light blue waistcoat, white dress shirt and light blue tie with floral prints of small forget-me-not flowers.

However, Doflamingo found his eyes pasted to you, staring at you intensely, taking in your wedding dress. It complimented your figure, hugging your delicate curves, with an open back, off-shoulder, with flower-patterned lace sleeves. The off-shoulder dress revealed your delicate collarbone and shoulders, temptation in white lace.

What a beauty you were.

Doflamingo was impressed. His brother cleaned up well. No wonder you were all over him — his brother finally dressed as was proper for his godly status. If only his brother dressed like that all the time, and not like a clown…

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” the cheering of the guests filled the room.

Doflamingo could tell by the way your eyes looked at his brother. You loved his brother deeply.

Rosinante leaned down, and you met him half-way, hugging him around the waist happily — oh yes, you very much loved his brother, thought Doflamingo, amused — and the two of you shared another kiss as newlyweds.

Applause and cheers erupted. More confetti rained down on Corazón and you, a few scraps of it landing on your heads, strewn over his brother’s golden hair.

It didn’t escape Doflamingo’s notice how close Corazón held you to himself, and kissed you again, more passionate and deeper this time, making the crowd cheer and whistle.

Doflamingo chuckled. Who knew his quiet, sweet little brother was so passionate and possessive with his wife… he sure liked playing the good marine boy, but he was certainly a greedy, selfish man.

Just like Doflamingo.

Doflamingo heard a whistle from behind the video snail, “Leave some for the honeymoon, Rosi!”

“Oh, shut up, Wulf. Gimme that!”

His brother’s face entered the frame, his light brown eyes looking at the recorder snail, blinking. Doflamingo blinked back, staring at his brother who was without his make-up and beanie.

Rosi.

“Why’re you taking pictures?”

“It’s a video snail, Rosi.”

“Oh!”

“Hiiii!” said Rosinante, waving at the snail’s eyes, smiling wide and bright like the sun, golden and white, truly like a god. “We just got married!”

Doflamingo stared at the screen, watching his little brother smiling and waving at him.

You laughed, and Doflamingo felt his breath hitch at the sweet, gentle sound, staring at your smile; it was like an angel smiling.

“Well,” murmured Doflamingo, lounging back on the large white couch, staring at you; you looked beautiful in that wedding dress, like an angel. How on earth his brother held himself back from taking you and ripping your dress off your body was anyone’s guess. “You got something right.” The pirate smiled darkly. “What a pretty thing your wife is, fufufufu!”

“What are you doing, recording all the time? Hibou is stealing your ladies, you know.”

“Not that I mind!” came another man’s voice.

“I’m putting my flirty boy hat down for tonight!” announced Wulf determinantly. “I’m your best man, it’s my duty to record everything!”

“Isn’t that the photographer’s job?” asked Rosinante.

“Not when you promise the photographer a piece of this,” said Wulf with a grin, touching his body clad in the sky blue suit from the waist up to his white slicked-back hair, giving the snail a flirtatious wink, “in exchange for him giving you the video snail.”

“Wulf…”

“What? You two aren’t the only ones fucking at the end of the night!”

Rosinante’s face turned a deep pink, while you chuckled.

Doflamingo skipped forward, past the procession and the feast, and over the speeches. He stopped to watch the couple’s first dance.

Rosinante took you by the hand and led you onto the podium of leaves. The band started playing a slow, romantic song mainly focused on piano and violin. Rosinante pulled you close (with surprising elegance Doflamingo never thought him capable of, clumsy as his brother was) and pulled you into a slow waltz. For long minutes, you two danced, spinning and swaying, blue and white blending together perfectly, like the sky and the clouds.

The music continued, and Doflamingo watched you rest your head on his brother's shoulder when he bent down, resting his forehead against your temple, kissing your hair. You pulled your head up from his brother's shoulder, and that sweet look would have made Doflamingo bend down and kiss you. Instead of doing that, Rosinante laid his forehead against yours, and as you two swayed together to the slow music, staring into each other's eyes, your lips moved, forming words Doflamingo couldn't hear from the music. Rosinante smiled gently at you, his lips moving, making the same shape of words as yours did.

The music muted it, but Doflamingo could tell. He knew the shape Rosi’s lips formed, what words they whispered to you, pressed together with you as his brother was, the two of you like swans entangled in each other’s wings.

“I love you.”

Getting hungry — and wanting snacks to watch the show — Doflamingo headed to the kitchen to get some beer and chips.

Doflamingo paused in the dining room, his eyes catching onto the plate on the dinner table. It was a plate with a tower of pancakes, covered in chocolate syrup. Were you expecting someone? A marine guard to take you away from the island and to Marineford for the funeral?

Well…

Doflamingo grinned.

Finders keepers.

He snatched one and devoured it in one bite.

The chocolate syrup and chocolate filling inside created a wonderful flavour in his mouth.

Delicious.

Doflamingo grabbed the next pancake, feeling absolutely no shame in eating the pancakes you made for someone else.

As Doflamingo eats the full plate of pancakes, he walks around, surveying the pictures of you and his brother atop the fireplace. There is a large, binded book, and after cleaning his gloves from chocolate and sugar with a napkin, Doflamingo picks it up.

It’s a photo album. He grins. Bingo.

Doflamingo gets himself comfortable on the white couch, puts the flowers and the plate of pancakes on each thigh, opens up the photo album, grabs another pancake from the plate and looks through the pictures of you and his brother as he waits for you to come home.

***

Whenever you had nightmares, Rosinante used to say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.”

Those words feel empty and meaningless now. Rosi is gone. He can’t protect you anymore, no matter how much you wish he would.

You open the doors of the house, enter, and close them behind you, locking them from the inside.

It takes you a moment, but you notice it.

There is something in the darkness.

A tall, shadowy figure of a man, hunched over, long spine bent, his long, lanky legs crossed over each other, and…

The darkness outlined the silhouette of dark feathers of a massive coat upon his broad shoulders, covering his back.

Hope blooms within you.

“Rosi?”

A sinister, deep, wicked laugh resounded in the darkness, breaking through the silence. The malice within it sunk your gut, shivering your bones with fear; you felt like you were going to be sick. It sounded like evil incarnate.

That isn’t Rosi’s voice. That isn’t Rosi’s laugh. Rosi never laughed like that – ever.

You didn’t know how you managed to flick the light switch on to see which madman it was, but you did.

The first thing you saw when light illuminated the living room was…

Red — merlot red.

For a moment, the colour blinds you. Your focus returns, and you make out what the merlot red is. It’s a tailored, merlot double-breasted suit jacket with golden buttons with a black dress shirt tucked underneath it, a crimson tie tucked neatly in the collar, all of it paired with merlot suit pants.

A man was here. It wasn’t Rosinante.

Golden rings dangled from his tanned earlobes, their shiny reflection lost in the dark shadows of your home, their glitter extinguished. He had a long neck, similar to a flamingo’s, thick and muscular. White-framed sunglasses obscured his eyes. Their tinted, reflective lenses coloured like a bloody sunset stared right back at you, coated crimson in the darkness.

A wide, crescent-shaped, demonic smile bloomed on his face, stretching ear-to-ear, baring all of his white teeth.

That smile froze the blood in your veins.

Your husband’s older brother, Donquixote Doflamingo lounged on the white couch, legs spread wide on each side, grinning at you.

****

Let's say Doflamingo fixed the doors he kicked down, bcs... He wanted that element of surprise. This fic (this chapter particularly) has been in the works for a long time, I just wanted to share it already. If there are any missing scenes connecting between paragraphs - no there aren't. Actually, I appreciate if you guys say to me if there are. There are so many times I can proof read 11.7k words before my brain explodes. Some notes for the chapter and references.

Reader howling to the sky in mourning after finding out about Rosinante's death - for imagination purposes, it's literally Luffy screaming after Ace dies. It was a direct reference to it, and that's how I imagined Reader looking - same expression as Luffy.

The "Rosinante is dead." Doflamingo delivered the news the same way Luffy said "Ace is dead." to Tama in Wano.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @moonbaby26 @daydreamer-in-training @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @pinejayy @tellynojelly @capycapy-bara @dilf-destroyer-04 @yataidiot @orioncipher @isebauwolf @r-amenegg @skullfacedlady

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

A little fanart I made!! I had been wanting to draw something One Piece related! And since I was able to here's a one-shot to go along with it.

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro with a younger girl who is like his little sister who has been beside him for years headcannons plsss and maybe his reaction to her x luffy?

Miss Roronoa

Zoro with a Lil sister headcannons

Zoro x younger sister! Reader

Reader x Luffy

✧｡⁠:ﾟ۝ ﾟ⁠:⁠｡✧:ﾟ۝ ﾟ⁠:⁠｡✧｡⁠:ﾟ۝ ﾟ⁠:⁠｡✧✧｡⁠:ﾟ۝ ﾟ⁠:⁠｡✧:ﾟ۝ ﾟ⁠:⁠｡✧｡⁠:ﾟ۝ ﾟ⁠:⁠｡✧

❥ First and foremost, like almost all older brothers, Zoro would be protective of his lil sister.

Anywhere she wants to go off the ship, he's coming along with. Not because he doubts she could take care of herself but because, and I quote, "I don't want you getting lost or something." To which he'd get a 'Thats some bs' look from not only you but from anyone nearby who heard.

❥ Ussop and Nami side-eyeing from the side.

❥ Before the both of you joined the crew you'd work as sort of the nurse whenever he'd get injured in a fight or even during training, even when you were little kids. So ofcourse he'd pay back the favour by teaching you how to fight too -mainly because he doesn't want you getting picked on by other kids and also as a form of bullying you himself.

"C'mon, pick up the sword and fight me!"

"Why don't you drop the other two swords and we can have a fair fight?"

He'd just stare at you, mind piecing together a heinous plan. His grin widening into an evil one.

"What if I give you a little tap then?"

"MOOMMM! ZORO'S TRYING TO FIGHT ME AGAIN!"

❥ Remember that interview he had when he was asked how he lived before joining the crew? Where he'd say he'd kill the sea king and eat it whole. He'd give you a tiny portion of the share. Just to tease you. "You didn't kill it so you don't decide how much you'll get." Meanwhile he placed another larger portion when you're not looking.

❥He wouldn't say "I love you." to you. Brothers don't usually do that. He'd probably laugh at you when you do something dumb or fall over and if cameras were around at that time, he'd take a picture before helping you up

Or say something like:

"Tell me if someone's bothering you. I'll handle them."

❥ Siblings look the same one way or another. So let's just say one of the many things that shouts out that you two are related is your green hair. People who've heard rumours are already scared enough of the name Roronoa Zoro but they tremble even more when they find out he has a sister just as dangerous. Maybe even more.

❥ Sanji. Just that would be a whole case for Zoro.

Sanji treats you like a princess as he does for all women. But the moment Zoro even comes to his line of vision he's a certified hater.

"You're always so beautiful!!" ♡(♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠)♡

"Thank you Sanji, you're beautiful too." (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

"I did not just hear you call that Cook "beautiful"" (ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ)

"You say "Cook" like it's a slur."

❥ And Finally like most brothers, he definitely disapproves of any xy chromosome.

When you were still little, he'd chase off any boy who even dared to look at you romantically. Maybe even glare at anyone who went inside your personal space. It wouldn't be in an overbearing way; he'd understand that you wanna live your life.

So when he could see something brew between you and his captain, he was cautious. Don't get it wrong, Luffy is his friend and captain, he'd trust the rubbery man with his life. But you're his sister and he'll still look out for you. Maybe knock some sense into Luffy about some things just in case.

''Luffy.''

''Yeah, Zoro?''

''Hurt her and I'll-''

''Wouldn't dream of it.''

❥ Sanji would be sulking in the corner, tissues and tears at the fact that Luffy got a girlfriend before him.

[stararonia]

MEMORY

– @matchadobo minamahal (:

– nsfw: oral (f receiving)

– summary: Kid eats you out

Kid wasn’t the sentimental type. He lived for the moment, savoring experiences when he felt like it and letting them drift away when he didn’t. Yet, standing on the deck of the Victoria Punk, the scent of the ocean and the crisp night air stirred something in him - a memory of you. That night, where all his pent-up emotions spilled over, leaving him raw and unguarded.

He sighed, gazing at the endless expanse of stars, recalling the way you felt beneath him, the way you sounded, the way you surrendered to him completely.

“You feel amazing,” you moaned as he thrusted inside you. Kid was surprisingly gentle, knowing that he could snap at any moment, making his movements erratic to the point when you couldn’t walk the next day.

“I can make you feel more than that,” he growled as he pinned you down on his red, fluffy coat, taking in your half-lidded stare at his face, exposing your neck which he gladly kissed with the goal of leaving a hickey, a mark as a memory for the night you were his.

Kid adjusted his weight and slowly kissed you down the bottom of your throat to the valley of your breasts, briefly biting each nipple before he continued his decent. When he reached his goal - your pretty pussy right in front of him, he smirked and traced your inner curves and folds delicately with his lips then slowly infiltrated you with his tongue exploring you with expertise that left you desperate for more.

You arched your back, wrapping your feet around his neck, silently begging him for more. Kid sucked you as his tongue did wonders inside. His tight grip on your wrists was long gone, for now both hands were spreading your legs apart wide enough for his head to be in between. Once he took his tongue out, he continued sucking your clit, wanting to hear you scream his name louder, enough for everyone in that damn inn to hear.

When you hit your climax, Kid greedily licked you, slurping up each drop and looked up, giving you a small smirk.

“You’re my favorite flavor.” He whispered into your center. His hot breath made you shiver as he let your thighs, looking at them satisfied to see bruises forming.

Crawling up over you on all fours, his coat now damp with sweat and remaining juices that dripped down your thighs, he hovered above you, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue, the intimacy of it making your head spin.

“Ready for more?” He whispered.

[kaivenom]

Hey same person who asked for OP DILF x MILF reader

How about them reacting to MILF reader having a kid? (Even funnier if it was like luffy or zoro lol)

OP DILFS dating a MILF who has a kid

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

A/N: Two things. First one: i love this, i really had a good time writing it, you have great ideas my dear anon. Second one: exams are finally oveeeer, so i would be trying to update more than usual to get all the requests out of the hoven for everyone.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

After taking care of Zoro and Perona, he thinks that he is ready for everything.

One day you were both on the kitchen and he like ussual is reading paperwork.

"It looks like the new generation it's going strong, this kid seems a good swordsman." he shows you the picture.

"Drac, i think it's time for us to talk." he almsot felt fear for a moment, "that kid it's mine, not like you and Zoro, literally that is my son." his mind exploded, you never saw him that concerned.

"And when will you have said this to me?"

"I am telling you now... you know how difficult it's to date at our age, especcially being a woman who already has a kid?" he nodded and pushed you closer, "i planned on telling you soon, i just, didn't know how, i was expecting something like this to happen to have the oportunity to tell you.

"You are lucky i already have practice with that green haired boy... call him, we can set a dinner and i can meet him formally, maybe even bond?" you coudln't help but smile and kiss him.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He already has experience with children since he literally adopted a lot of them.

One day someone robbed on the royal treasure chamber of Dressrosa and he was furious, he was looking for you to help him relax.

"My dove, i need some of your assistance on my d..."

"And when i tell you i date someone your best idea it's to rob him? you are lucky i found you and your stupid friends before he did? and.... " you finally became aware of his presence, but his eyes were already glued to the teenager.

You grabbed your child by the collar of the shirt and went to the door, your previous angry look bacame softer seen how Doflamingo's eyebrows were frowning.

"This is my son... i called him to Dressrosa so you could finally meet him but he decided to 'prove you'... i dont know what was on his mind. I have the treasure located and coming back to the chamber."

"You have a child." Doflamingo looked at the verge of an aneurysm, gritting his teeth.

"I do, please, don't punish him... i thake the responsability." his lips curled in a strange smile, like he was trying to fake it.

"I am honored to meet your son, it's impressive to know how skilled he is, maybe he can join court..." clearly Doffy was having a hard time trying not to kill you son.

Sr. Crocodile

Experience 0, oblivious 100%

He was on his office, doing work and you appeared with your son.

"Croc..." he turned the chair and looked at you both, "dear, i told you i don't need more agents... i don't know how you contacted someone with such a high bounty but i don't need it." and he turned the chair again.

"This is my son..." Crocodile was thankfull for being backwards to you cause he choked on the cigar.

"Your what?"

"SIr Crocodile, i am (Y/N)'s son, i was hoping to meet you and bond a little, i wasn't expecting a job... but if you give it to me i am not going to complain."

"You already have a job as bounty hunter, don't try to take advantage of this." you poked your son's cheek under Crocodile's surprised look.

"I..." he cleared his throat, trying to sound serious and prepared, "pleasure to meet you child, i would have appreaciate it a warning."

"I warned you, i left a note on the fridge that said 'special meeting today, i have a surprise'" your son started to laugh.

"That sounded like a booty call, jajaja, maybe he was expecting you to come here in lingerie." you punched your son on the head to make him shut up.

"I can make a reserve on the restaurant we both like and i can know you better." he tried to sound profesional but your son was right, he tought you would give him a sexy surprise, not this.

Smoker

He was really tired of dealing with teenage pirates.

He spent the last week chasing and fighting agaisnt a new supernova, he was tired and just wants to get home to you.

"Hello love." he said while hanging his uniform, then he got to the living room and saw that same supernova playing cards with you, "i don't know what you are doing here bastard but you are not going to hurt my..."

"Relax old men, i was just paying a visit to my mother." Smoker got his mind reset.

"Smoker sweetie, this is my son."

"How couldn it be your son? you are a marine."

"Same happens with Garp, but he is a grandfather.... i think maybe this is a nice time for you two to meet." you were really nervous but tried to sound chill and smooth.

"Oh mother, we already know each other, thi sis the man that has been chasing me all week." the moment got worse every second and you wanted to hide, but you felt Smoker sat next to you and put his arm on your should, "noooo, cut the romantic things, i am going to throw up."

"Don't talk to us like that, yesterday i was furious that you were so childish but right now, i wont tolerate you talking to your mother or me with such a disrespectful tone." you had to hide a laugh, he clearly was getting his frustations out but at the same time trying to be nice. "so tell me, how can a son of a marine officer become a pirate?"

"Well..." and you knew that this would be a long night.

Akagami Shanks

Since Luffy and Uta, he was out of the parenting thing, for now.

You were sleeping and suddently canons started to burst on the ship, you got dressed and prepared to a new day at board.

"I am xxxxx, and i will defeat you, Red Head SHanks."

"On your dreams, child." canons were still bursting when you got on the ship and saw the attacker of the ship.

"Mom?" "Son?" you both said at the same time, Shanks mouth touched the ground.

"Come here you little prick, how could you blow the ship of your mother's fiancee."

"You are engaged? i didn't got the letter nor invitation, you don't love me or what? i know we don't live together anymore but..."

"I sent it yesterday, it should get to you in a couple of hours but... we took the covers of various newspapers, how could you not saw it?"

"You know i don't read that bullshit..." you both were yelling at each other from the ships, until Shanks decided to finally talk.

"And when i was going to know this?"

"Today!" he coudln't even talk, his mind was going to fast, another problematic child.

"Boy, stop blasting canons and get on the ship... i love your mother and i want to marry her, i can kill you."

"You are not going to kill me, i am going to defeat you."

"You can try, after the wedding and only if i am looking." you yelled at him and went to Shanks, "leave him, he is excited in reality to meet you."

"I must recompose myself, i must make him see i am a good stepfather."

[rambird12]

Heart pirates lunar new year party

[sanjisleggy]

in the eye of the beholder (portgas d. ace x reader)

req: You wanted an Ace request? 👀

How about Ace with a zoan mythical devil fruit reader that never really changes into their devil fruit form or variables of it because she felt like it would scare them or something, but when Ace is near death, the reader comes in full force and saves him

I don't know what type the zoan will be, but can you have it be a big creature like a dragon? I just love the trope of a person going ape shit for their beloved/crush

a/n: omg i love that trope too ;;0;; i love any trope that involves one person losing control in order to protect someone else dat shit Hits also oops i think i got a bit overenthusiastic with the descriptions of reader’s body changing so i hope it’s not too much for anyone :0 !

ALSO MORE ACE REQUESTS PLS AND THANK U MUAH

contents: somewhat gory descriptions of bodily harm(? but nothing too gross i don’t think), some angst, fluff, hurt/comfort!!

wc. 1.8k

wanna be on my taglist?

despite being your boyfriend for nearly two years now, Ace still doesn’t know what your full Zoan form looks like. he knows you have the Dragon variant of Devil Fruit but that’s pretty much the full extent of his knowledge, aside from the rare occasion you use your hybrid form to fly but even during those moments you move so fast his eyes can barely keep up

Ace would be lying if he said he wasn’t a tiny bit upset he’s never seen your full form–back when he was a fresh member of the crew he’d even pestered you quite a bit in hopes you’ll cave in and show him–but he understands why you’re hesitant to use it

“you do know it hurts her, right?” Thatch said out of the blue one day when Ace had nothing better to do and decided to watch him cook to kill time. 

“what does?” the second division commander replied through a mouthful of bread.

“transforming into her Zoan form,” the head chef continued. “i’ve seen it myself only twice but both times it was kind of hard to watch.” 

the more Ace listened to Thatch’s descriptions of the sounds of your bones cracking and flesh tearing as your human screams gradually turned into monsterish roars that shook the very earth, the more guilty he felt for all the times he’d asked you to show him. he’d seen Marco transform so many times, he ignorantly assumed the process was just as easy and painless for you. 

“the last time she did it,” Thatch added, “she scared some civilians by accident and they got hurt trying to run away. i think that fucked her up a bit for quite a while.”

it’s safe to say, he stopped asking you to transform after that. though the suddenness of it all surprised you, it was nice being able to hang out with him without worrying about being asked to show your Zoan form. a few months afterwards, you even end up dating him–something your past self never would have considered

Ace still is very interested in what your full form looks like but he can see himself spending the rest of his life with you so he’s sure he’ll see it one day–and soon he learns he’s right, he just never thought it would be under such dire circumstances

for the first time in a long time, Ace finds himself panicking on the battlefield. his heart pounds painfully against his ribcage and no matter how much air he tries to inhale, his lungs are constantly begging for more air. Ace’s vision blurs but he refuses to lose consciousness, blinking rapidly to clear his sight as he stares down at his blood soaked hands.

he’s not wounded, though. you are.

lying on the dirt in front of him as the two of you take cover behind an abandoned cottage, you gasp for air as fresh blood slowly pools beneath you; the red, hot substance pouring out from the bullet wounds in your torso and legs.

what was supposed to be a simple recon mission turned out to be an ambush by the marines. 

“stay awake, you hear me?” Ace shouts as he tilts your head to look at him, staining your cheek with your own blood from his hands. “give me one minute and i’ll be back. i just need a minute and we’ll be safe, okay?” his words are confident and firm, in stark contrast to his teary eyes and trembling hands; but you trust him with your life so you simply nod.

from where you lay, you can see most of the battlefield. you watch as he burns down the endless waves of marines almost effortlessly, like he always does, and you nearly break your promise as you’re nearly lulled to sleep by the familiar sense of security he brings you. in fact, you’re on the brink of dozing off when you’re startled awake by the sound of Ace screaming.

your eyes snap open as you frantically scan the area, bile rising up your throat as you struggle to find Ace. when you do finally see him, it takes all of your willpower not to puke out of fear.

at the feet of what looks like a Vice Admiral, he lies near-motionless, the only sign of life being the faint rise and fall of his chest and the hacking cough that tears its way out of his blood-filled mouth. the Marine orders his remaining soldiers to fall back and to “leave them to me.” with a sadistic smile painted on his face. he speaks to Ace briefly though you’re unable to catch what he’s saying and then, with a haki-imbued kick, he sends your lover flying across the battlefield in your direction.

wheezing and coughing as tears drip down his grimacing face, Ace reaches out to you with a trembling, blood-covered hand. his fingers brush against your own tear-stained face and with all the remaining strength left within him, he smiles at you.

“i… i’ll protect you… no matter what.” he mutters as you watch the Vice Admiral close the distance, taking step after step towards the back of your lover.

it’s in the moments that follow does Ace learn that Thatch’s description of your Zoan transformation did little justice to the real thing.

he watches helplessly as you begin to scream while you lift your upper body off the ground and at first he thinks it’s from the pain from your wounds but once your skin starts to turn into scales, he realises it’s so much worse. as your body grows in size, your limbs crack and shift and massive wings sprout out of your spine. your head’s tossed back as you shriek to the heavens while your eyes turn a golden yellow and your pupil transforms into a slit.

the ground trembles as your voice transforms into a deep roar that shakes even the faraway trees of the surrounding forest. too wounded to turn himself around, Ace can only guess the looks of terror on the marines’ faces from the sound of their panicked shouting and uncoordinated gunfire. he watches in awe as the bullets that reach your body fall uselessly to the ground.

Ace feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as his instincts scream at him to get away from the looming threat still approaching him from the back. under normal circumstances, he’s sure he’ll be able to get away from the Vice Admiral through sheer willpower alone, escaping death is nothing new to the young man–right now, though, he knows he’s safe when you lower one of your massive wings to shield him from the rest of the world.

he listens as the cries for mercy gradually die down into a peaceful silence composed of the evening wind, insects chirping and the crackling of small fires that are soon to fizzle out. although Ace can tell he’s not fatally wounded, his body hurts to the point where it feels hard to move–arrogance always was the achilles heel of logia users. 

the setting sun shines on him once more as your wing retracts while you slowly transform back to normal. he calls out your name but you don’t respond and for a moment, he feels the same sense of panic from before rising up in his chest. his poor heart only settles once he has your unconscious body cradled in his tired arms. you’re still badly wounded but your chest rises and falls steadily as you rest in his embrace.

Marco finds the second division commander and the Whitebeard Dragon asleep in each other's arms surrounded by nearly hundreds of dead marines, all burnt to a crisp. though most would naturally assume Firefist Ace was the main culprit, Marco suspects–just by looking at the faint scaly pattern still lingering on your skin–that you might have done all the work this time

Ace wakes up first, not in an infirmary bed like he thought he would but still on the battlefield, face-to-face with his close friend who’s leaning over to pull you out of Ace’s arms. it takes both men a second to realise the true extent of his protectiveness over you; and it takes another second before Marco starts making fun of the younger man for being so whipped

it takes a long time for you to wake up even after Marco uses his Devil Fruit abilities to help heal most of your wounds. “it takes a bigger toll on her than normal Zoan Devil Fruit transformations would,” the doctor had explained to a distraught Ace, “her body goes through a lot to become something so massive, y’know?”

being patient was never Ace’s strong suit but he has zero complaints while waiting for you to wake up. for weeks he stays by your bedside, talking to you about his day, playing with your hands, and taking naps whilst curled up by your feet. the other crew members who come in to check on you daily constantly poke fun at him and yet it’s these same people who leave snacks, drinks and comics for him to use while waiting by your side.

almost a full month passes by before you wake up to the feeling of something warm and heavy resting on your chest; and moments later, Ace is roused from his nap when he feels your fingers brushing through his hair.

“hey,” he whispers, head still resting in the valley of your breasts, tilted up just enough for his eyes to meet yours. his legs are tangled with yours as the infirmary bed blanket lays uselessly on the floor.

“hey,” you reply, voice hoarse from the dryness of your throat.

“you’re really cool,” Ace says, eyelids forming into crescents as he smiles–the simple expression almost infectious in the way you feel the corners of your own lips tugging upwards in spite of being reminded about the sheer agony of your Zoan transformation.

“it must’ve been shocking, huh?” you ask, “watching me transform? i’ve heard some people say it’s gross and scary–”

“no!” he cuts you off, eyebrows furrowing, “it was amazing.” Ace runs his warm fingers up and down your bare arms before trailing downward to meet your hands, all the while staying laid on top of you with his eyes locked onto your own. “you were amazing. i’d never felt safer in my life.”

you can’t help but sniffle as you feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. “it wasn’t disgusting? i… wasn’t disgusting?” shaking his head, Ace inches forward until the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

“you were beautiful,” he murmurs, “you are so beautiful.” 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch

[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall

[lady-z-writes]

Zoro x Reader

In which reader can't sleep and Zoro's keeping watch...and then can't stop watching 👀

Cw: smut (18+), afab, alcohol consumption, swearing, groping, vaginal fingering, handjob, sex, creampie.

(Takes place after Thriller Bark, but nothing too spoiler-y. Why am I so embarrassed to post this? Anyway, I hope you don't hate it.)

It's late.

The only sounds are the waves crashing, quiet snores from the crew, and a few footsteps on deck.

Zoro opens an eye, glances toward the noise to see you making your way over to a rail and looking at the water. Silently, he watches you pull a hoodie over your head, yawn, then lean down, your hands cupping under your chin.

"It's late," he says, startling you. "You should sleep."

Upon further investigation, he notices it's his jacket you're wearing - one gifted to him from Water 7 after all that crap with the crew's belongings. He scoffed when he saw it, hadn't put it on more than once, and now that he thought of it, he'd left it in the kitchen.

Thief, he half laughs to himself.

Opportunist, he knew you'd correct.

"I'm up. I can keep watch. You need some rest." Your voice isn't groggy from sleep, clearly you'd been awake for some time now.

Zoro's body aches, a dull sensation he's grown used to, but his position on the deck isn't exactly comfortable. And given recent events, he knows he needs more time to heal.

You don't know the extent of it, but you sensed something was off with Zoro - moreso than normal.

"Can't sleep?" He ignores your offer.

"I...yeah," the look on your face is haunted.

He's silent again, observing.

"Some creepy shit on that boat, huh?"

It's almost like he sees you settle at his acknowledgment; your shoulders loosen, a sigh leaves you, you deflate.

"We've been through some crazy shit, absolutely, but that was...nightmare material."

Zoro nods slowly, silences.

"We're safe, though, right?" Your voice is a whisper.

He nods stiffly, "mhm."

You look misty-eyed and Zoro is almost uncomfortable. "Look, I don't know what happened, but something doesn't seem right. Please. Get some sleep."

He doesn't argue with you, like you expected. But he also doesn't get up to go to bed. Instead, the headstrong swordsman leans back against the mast, hands cradling behind his head, and is snoring in minutes.

---

When he wakes up, the sunrise makes him squint. He's stretching his aching joints when he notices you're still nearby, a blanket thrown over your lap, steaming cup of coffee in your hands, Sanji flailing at your compliment on the brew, and an enormous Franky-sized shadow plopped next to you commenting about the sunrise.

Despite all of this, you hear him get up, turn your attention to him, and for some reason, it...warms something long dormant in him.

"Good morning!"

He can't shake the damn feeling all day. Not when he scurries away to work out, not when Chopper insists on checking his wounds again, and certainly not when he runs chest-first into you when rounding the corner away from the infirmary.

You stumble back as his reflexes force his arms forward to grab you.

You're nearly topless and his cheeks heat up at the sensation of touching your skin.

You're so soft...

"S-sorry! Oh my God, Zoro!"

"What're you doing?" He nods down at you now that you're not toppled over. He crosses his arms, figures that will help him forget.

"A few of us are swimming. You should join."

"Hm."

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last night. I just...worry, I guess."

His eyes take you in and you feel so transparent under his gaze. Your skin heats up.

"Don't worry about me."

"Got it. I'll just shut my brain off then." You look almost irritated, flustered, defeated.

"It's not like that, y/n..."

"No, you're right. I overshare. I need to keep things to myself; take one from your playbook."

You try to move passed him, but he steps in your way. Doesn't put his hands on you again, you notice.

"You're insufferable," he speaks quietly. Your jaw drops. "So why the fuck can't I stop thinking about you?"

A moment passes between you two. You're too stunned to speak. Seconds later, Zoro side-steps you and walks away.

---

Zoro figured everyone was swimming in the inflatable pool from the soldier dock system - not pulled out on the grassy deck.

Zoro sighs, thinking he'd have peace staying away from it all, but as he's making his way to the crow's nest, Luffy calls him over and begs him to swim.

He locks eyes with you and you almost choke on the wine you're sipping.

"Fine, I'll stay," he removes his shirt and shoes, seats himself beside Luffy, shoves his feet in the water, and reaches past you to grab the bottle of wine.

Bold, you think.

But his expression tightens when his fingers accidentally brush your hip.

You're smirking behind your glass and it pisses him off.

This isn't some game, he thinks.

But after your concern about him last night and the attention he's noticed you're giving him...there's something stirring and he hates it.

Franky splashes you, knocking you from your daydream and you react instantly, setting your wine glass down, launching yourself at him and wrestling him in the pool.

Zoro watches, drinking from the bottle, tells himself he's not noticing the way the water drips down your skin, or how your playfulness with Franky stirs jealousy in him.

What the fuck was wrong with him today?

Shaking his head, he leans back, stares at the passing clouds, steadies his breathing.

"Bro, tell her how strong I am. Tell her she won't win!" Franky calls to Luffy, tossing you in the water. You're gasping for air, pulling up between Zoro's widespread legs as the splash of water from Franky's toss covers him.

What. Are. The. Odds?

Zoro feels himself blush as your dripping wet self emerges from the water.

You lock eyes.

You steal the bottle from his hand, take a long drink, never breaking eye contact, then splash him right in the face.

"That does it!"

Zoro is bodying you into the water.

"No, not the wine!" You whimper, trying to hold the bottle above water as you're tackled.

It feels good, the cold water. Feels even better when he grips your hips underwater, drags his thumbs across your skin, and hears your sharp inhale.

So you're feeling it, too?

Interesting.

It becomes sort of a test, to Zoro, to see how far he could push things before the tension snapped

Over the next few days, he catches you looking at him, especially when he's shirtless or working out - which is often.

You see him stealing glances at times, sometimes when you and Franky are interacting, especially when Sanji is near you.

Then there's a late-night drink you sometimes have - some rum mix Sanji makes you, but you insist on being alone in the aquarium bar. He honors it, always, just the two of you knowing you're down there...or so you think.

You enjoy watching the fish, the calm of the swaying ship, the crew asleep. It helps when the nightmares get you.

Only tonight, you hear footsteps.

"Sanji, I told you-"

Only it's not Sanji.

Zoro stands, hands in pockets, an eyebrow raised.

"You expecting Sanji?" There's a tone to his voice. His little tiff with the cook is humorous most days.

"No." You feel your heart rate increase.

"What, exactly, are you doing alone down here so often?"

"Are you watching me?"

"Keeping an eye," he corrects.

"I enjoy the ambiance down here."

Zoro nods, seats himself beside you on the red bench, stares at the fish.

"Even now?" He's got a teasing tone to his voice and you suddenly can't take it anymore.

One swift movement, you straddle his lap, set the drink on the back of the cushion, and lace your fingers in his hair. Your lips hover over his. The tension increases.

You pause.

"Do it," Zoro's gruff voice speaks quietly.

"You sure?"

"What, you afraid you can't handle me?"

Immediately, you're liplocked, kissed with a hunger you've never experienced before.

You grind down against his growing erection and he groans.

"Tease. You're such a tease."

"You've no idea," you mutter between kisses.

It's like Zoro is in a competition with himself; each kiss better than the last.

You're experimenting too; gripping his hair and nipping his lower lip to see what'll get those sexy noises from him again.

"Maybe this'll get you outta my head," Zoro hums, breathless when you trail kisses down his chest.

"Agreed. You're driving me crazy."

"Feeling's mutual," he grunts when you palm him through his pants.

"Fuck and get it out of our systems?" You suggest.

He freezes. Had he thought of that? He wouldn't like to admit it. He hadn't expected you to make the suggestion.

His hands reach under your skirt, fingering for your panties.

"Here?" You hiss.

"Yes, here," he grunts. "Why not?"

You really can't argue.

Especially when he's managed to get your panties off and has his fingers buried inside you, palm pressing against your clit like you like.

"Ah, so this is how to shut you up."

You give him a glare, but it's half-hearted.

"Just fuck me already."

"Hmm, such a dirty mouth," he presses harder against your clit. "Gotta warm up first, sweetheart," he speaks against your neck.

You hate that he got you so close so quickly.

"Zoro..."

"Hm?"

"I need you."

"I know you do. Now do me a favor and cum on my fingers, then I'll let you cum on my cock."

His words send you spiraling. You never knew he'd be like this.

You're gasping his name, riding his fingers as you come undone on his lap.

He's all too pleased with himself, seems confident until you say "my turn."

He won't last, he can tell from the first touch of your bare hand on his throbbing cock.

He hisses an inhale, tries hard to hold it together as you start stroking him.

"Fuck, I can't wait," you hum after a few moments.

He's almost praising your name as you slide down on his cock.

His head lolls back against the cushion as your fingers grip his shoulders and you ride him.

Feels nice to have you do all the work, as his body's still aching from the events on Thriller Bark.

Feels nice to just enjoy something for once, to not be in his head about training or strength. It's almost an out-of-body experience when you're taking him.

"Hey. Back here, wild one," you whisper against his ear. "Where'd you go, just now?"

He hums, "nowhere good."

"Then..." You pull back, speak, "right here," against his lips, and kiss him slowly, grinding down on him then shifting your hips up...back down.

It's bliss, he realizes.

Any other experience - shall he call it - he's had, it's a power thing; him topping, him working both parties into oblivion. Had he ever had someone just...please him like this, he wonders?

"Oi!" He yelps when you bite his collarbone. There's an acho from his quick smack of your ass.

"There you go again..." You shake your head, lick the reddening bite mark. He shudders. "Don't you want to stay with me?"

You're right. You're so, so right and he nods against your forehead as you pick up speed.

The sound of skin slapping together drags his attention lower, watching your bodies come together. He lifts up your skirt, groans, presses his thumb to your clit.

You don't take much longer to cum on his cock, the moment consuming Zoro's attention - the way you gasp for him, how your nails dig into his biceps, the look of your tits as you throw your head back and ride him.

"Okay," he huffs. "I'll give you those. Bet I'll get one more outta you before I'm done."

You huff a laugh. "I'll bet. Pretty cocky, huh?"

He laughs at your joke.

"Oh, I am."

It's not exactly the ideal place for this, but Zoro tosses you down easily - shifts his knees on either side of you, the red cushions squeaking against naked skin. His aching body protests, but he thinks of it as a workout as he pounds into you - kisses down your body, every bit of exposed skin.

He's distracting himself so he doesn't end this little dalliance too soon.

"Up," he taps your thigh, pulls out.

He stands, ready to have you suck his cock, get you nice and worked up with no stimulation.

Only you stand, turn, raise the skirt, glance over your shoulder, and bend forward.

Coy. Cute.

He's back inside you in seconds, unwilling to let you win this one.

"Tease," he accuses again.

"You're too much fun," you laugh.

The playful lilt to your voice is gone soon, as he gives you his all.

You're too stunned to speak; only heaved breaths and soft moans.

When he feels you orgasm again, his grip on your hip tightens.

"Okay, sweetness. On your knees," he grits out.

You look back, shocked, defiant.

"Zoro. Please."

It's all you need to say, because the way you're pushing back on him and begging, he's already too far gone.

He cums with a growled breath against your neck.

The two of you pause, breathing together in the afterglow. His hands remain on you moments too long, he's sure, but he wants to remember this, wants to pull back to it on those lonely nights.

"So," he huffs a laugh, "I won."

"Jerk."

---

It becomes addicting, this thing.

He's constantly in a state of wanting to improve, even in this.

And you're an eager participant, only trying to help.

😏

[calcifermovesthecastle]

Sharing a Moment

Tooth Rotting Sanji Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Whole Cake Island spoilers if you squint.

2460 ish words

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of past trauma, mentions of burns, mentions of Slavery.

This is actually an excerpt from my self insert one piece google doc, but I turned it into a reader insert. Character is afab, uses she/her pronouns, and is described with breasts. I do not shy away from "controversial" topics and do not censor any of my work. this does not mean that I condone or agree with the things that I write about.

This is what I do instead of therapy lmao.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharp, uneven breaths pierce through the silence that surrounds you on the island. Your transponder snail sleeps peacefully on the ground, your hands trembling too violently to pick it up. 

Your head swims, and each new breath you take is shorter and sharper than the last. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, scrambling backwards on the forest floor. 

"I'm gonna find you, bitch!" The words aren't real, but they echo in your head nonetheless. You press your back up against the large tree you're under, clawing at the collar of your shirt around your neck. The night seems to close further in on you. 

You weren't lost. Not at first. You started out on the beach, picking through shrubs and bushes to resupply Chopper with some fresh herbs and plants. The rest of the crew's voices had faded away, dispersing in their own searches, leaving you alone in yours. The deeper you got into the woods, the darker it got, and the more anxious you felt. The more your mind began to race. 

Suddenly, you weren't a straw hat anymore. Suddenly, just like that, the shackles tightened around your neck and wrists, and your master calls after you, screaming all of the horrible things he'd do to you once you were found. 

Your transponder snail continues to snooze on the ground in front of you, a mocking reminder that you can call for help at any time, if you could just get out of your own head. 

"When I find you, I'm gonna gut you like an animal! You'll fucking wish you were dead when I'm done with you!" 

Oh, how you wish you would breathe quieter. Your head throbs and your vision swims, the lack of air and the blood pounding in your ears making you lightheaded. At this point, passing out seems like a blessing. 

"Do you want your hands set on fire again?! Or would you rather I stick them in boiling oil?" 

"No!" You manage to gasp out. You claw more at your shirt collar, ripping the fabric apart down past your breasts. A heavy, loud sob bursts past your lips, and all you can hear is your own rapid heart beat. 

Then, clear as a bell, you hear someone say your name. 

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving as you look around for the source, and stare up at Sanji, who's rounded the tree and is staring at you with eyes just as wide. Your voice gets caught in your throat, but your body almost buckles in relief. 

You cant seem to calm yourself down, though, and your throat constricts again, the ghost of that awful collar tightening around you. You pull your torn shirt even further away from you, your hands trembling so violently you have to grasp at it multiple times. 

Sanji crouches in front of you, shrugging his blazer off, not breaking eye contact once. 

"Sweetheart, would you like to go back to the ship?" 

You nod, bawling loudly. Sanji nods, never breaking his eye contact with you. He looks at you as if you'll run from him at any second.

"Okay, I'll take you home. I need you to calm down first, okay?" 

"I cant-" You choke out, taking another short, sharp breath in.

"Okay, I'll help you." 

Ever so gently, Sanji reaches out and pulls you close, resting his chin on top of your head. He takes your hands in his and squeezes, taking slow, steady breaths that you're supposed to mirror. It takes a few tries, but finally, your breathing returns to normal and your head stops swimming. Though you're still shaking, you're back to reality, and you know that you're okay. 

"Are you ready?" 

You had no idea Sanji's voice could sound so tender. Your lower lip trembles as you nod, and he gently pulls you to your feet, draping his blazer over your shoulders. 

When he pulls his hands away, you reach out to him, your voice breaking. 

"Don't go away." 

That's funny, you meant to say "Don't let go." Sanji's eyes widen briefly, but they soften just as quick, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders as soon as he's picked up your transponder snail and put it in the blazers pocket.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sweetheart," He says quietly. "I've got you." 

Slowly, he guides you through the woods back to the Sunny. You lean heavy on him, gripping the fabric of his blazer in your hands as tightly as you can to feel grounded. 

"Please don't tell the others," you whisper. Your eyes swim with more tears as shame blooms through your whole body. Sanji squeezes you firmly. 

"I wont. If they ask, I'll just say you got lost and called me to come get you." 

"Thank you," You rest your head against the side of his chest, listening to his heart beat. 

Another wave of relief floods your body when you finally land eyes on the Sunny. Sanji helps you up the first few rungs of the ladder, then starts climbing up after you. Once on board, you follow him to the kitchen, sitting at the table. 

He doesn't ask why, doesn't prod more information out of you, he just sets a warm mug of tea in front of you, ruffles your hair, and gets started on dinner. 

The warm lighting in the kitchen helps to soothe your frayed nerves, so you sip on the tea, mindfully taking slow, deep breaths. Sanji's company proves to be very grounding as well, so while he cooks, you slip your burn gloves off and stare at your hands.

Chopper has done a phenomenal job repairing some of the scarring. He's also helped you gain a ton of function back. But the flesh is still mangled badly, and the nerve damage is majorly irreparable. You can grasp and hold things, but your fine motor skills are gone. There's no getting that back. You open and close your fingers, grateful for the movement you have gained back. 

But the damage is still there. The pain of it is seared into the back of your mind forever. you frown, lost in thought. 

"Your tea is getting cold, d'you want me to heat it back up for you?" 

You jump, looking at Sanji with wide eyes. His eyes go from your face to your hands, and you can see his brow furrow behind his hair. He puffs on his cigarette and sits down next to you, reaching out and grasping them before you can pull away. 

Since they've been burned, nobody has touched your bare hands. You've always kept the gloves or bandages on, for fear that it would hurt too much otherwise, or trigger a bad reaction in you. 

But Sanji's hands don't do either. They feel cool, and the pressure is comforting. You stare wide eyed down at where your hands are, your heart stuttering in my chest. 

"You have beautiful hands," He says quietly. Your eyes fly to his face, but he doesn't look at you, he just studies your hands, turning them over in his own. 

"Don't lie," You whisper. It's barely audible, but he shakes his head. 

"I'm not lying. They really are beautiful." He says it with such conviction it makes your heart clench. 

"Look at you, you're fucking worthless, you pig bitch. You can't even serve me right with those fucked up hands of yours. Clean this fucking mess up and get the fuck out of my room so I dont have to look at how disgusting your hands look." 

"The scars on them don't mar the way they look," He continues. "They're quite striking." 

He sits and admires them for a few more minutes, and you stare at him, your eyes as wide as dinner plates, your face flushed red. 

You can feel butterflies in your stomach as he runs his thumb along one of the longer scars, humming. When he looks up at up at up at you, he smiles. 

"I guess I just never noticed." 

"Nobody," You whisper, for fear that your voice may break again. "Has ever said anything so kind about my hands." 

Sanji tilts his head, puffing on his cigarette. When he speaks again, his tone is tender. 

"Sweetheart, you should stop worrying so much. Nobody is ever going to hurt us again. Not like this." 

He squeezes your hands, ruffles your hair again, and gets up to check on dinner. 

Us?

Wait. Us?

"Sanji, what do you-" 

"Did you want me to reheat your tea?" He asks, as if he didn't hear you. You blink, glancing down at your cup. 

"Uh, sure. That would be really nice." 

Humming, he reheats your tea for you, then pulls some vegetables out. You put your gloves back on and pull his blazer tighter around your body. 

"Sanji?" 

"Hm? What is it?" 

"Could I have a cigarette?" 

He turns his head towards you, frowning. He sees how tense you are, how shaky your breath still is, and closes his eyes. 

"Just this once. These things are bad for you, you know." 

"I know," You smile slightly. He jerks his chin up once. 

"They're in the left pocket in my jacket. Just one, ya hear?" 

You heed his words, thanking him when he lights it for you. The first few puffs you take are followed by very harsh, loud coughs, but the next few burn less in your throat and lungs. It's a nice distraction. 

The rest of the crew still isn't back by the time you finish the cigarette, but you're not ready to be by yourself just yet, so you stay in the kitchen with Sanji. You finish your tea, and eat the food he puts in front of you, and when they're still not back after you've finished eating, you rest your chin in your hands and watch as Sanji continues to work in the warm yellow glow. By the time Luffy bursts in demanding dinner, you've fallen asleep at the table. 

"Hm? What's she doing here?" He asks, prodding at you gently. Sanji smacks his hand away, shooing him out of the room. 

"She got lost and called me to find her on the transponder snail. You get out and go sit in the lounge with everyone else for your dinner. She already ate." 

Luffy looks at you, frowning slightly, but concedes to letting you sleep for now. He bounds out of the room, yelling for everyone to go to the lounge so they can eat. 

You jerk awake sometime later, the shadow of a nightmare fading from your mind, leaving in its wake a sense of uneasiness and the deep seated need to not be alone. 

There is no light coming from the porthole, but the swaying of the ship tells you that we're back to sea. You stand up, steadying yourself with the table, and exit the kitchen. 

You hold Sanji's jacket tightly around you, climbing the ladder up to the crows nest. The smell of smoke tells you that that's where you'll find Sanji. 

Sure enough, he's standing with elbows resting on the ledge of the crow's nest as he stares out at open water, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray perched next to him. You walk straight over to him and wrap your arms around him from behind. 

He doesn't say anything, but turns slightly so he can wrap one of his arms around you. You press your ear against his chest, searching for his heartbeat. When you find it, you close your eyes and focus on it. 

For a while, the only noise is your breathing, his heartbeat, and the sounds the ocean makes. You're grateful for how expertly Sanji seems to handle you when you're at this low point, how he seems to know exactly what you need. How instead of fawning over you, he stays collected and steady and oh so kind and tender. You tighten your hold on him, closing your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," You murmur.

"What for?" He responds, just as quiet. You breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes. 

"Being such a fucking mess." Your voice breaks, and a quiet whimper escapes your throat for what feels like the umpteenth time tonight. "Sanji, everything came flooding back. I'm not strong enough to pretend I'm okay, and I don't know how I'm going to hide it from everyone. I don't want to be a mess. I don't want my past to control me but it does. Just when I think I've got a good handle on it, something triggers it, and I don't know what to do to stop myself from shutting down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

His hand reaches up to stroke your hair as you cry, and after a while he pulls away from you, squeezing an arm in each hand and crouching to your eye level. 

"Sweetheart, you cant change what happened to you. And it's still so recent for you that of course you're going to have days where it's harder for you to feel normal. You're going to have days where it feels like it's all a dream, and you're still stuck in those shackles. I saw you, that first day. Remember?" 

You nod, weeping openly. 

"You may not think so, but you are doing so much better than you were. He cant hurt you anymore. Say it." 

"H-he can't hurt me anymore." 

"Again." 

"H-he can't hurt me anymore." 

"That's right. He can't. But it's going to take time, right? You can know that there is nothing he can do to get to you. You can know that you're free. But it's going to take time for you to believe it. That's part of healing. So don't be sorry for your bad days. We understand, more than you could ever know."

Something distant clouds Sanji's eye, but it's gone before it takes form. Weakly, you reach your arms out to him, asking for a hug. He pulls you close, careful not to hold you too tight. 

"He can't hurt me anymore," You blubber. You feel him nod. 

"That's right." 

"I'm safe." 

"That's right." 

"I'm free." 

"You're free, love." Sanji tightens his grip on you for a moment, exhaling. "Would you like to lie down in bed?"

"Mhmm" You sniff. Truthfully, you'd rather stay awake with him as long as possible, but your body is so tired that you know there's no fighting the sleep that's coming. "But please don't leave me all alone up here." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Sanji says. A sharp wind blows by, causing both of you to tense. You shrug his jacket off, holding it out to him. 

"Since I'll be under the covers," You say hoarsely, "I suppose you could have your jacket back." 

He laughs, taking it and putting it back on. "I'm honored."

You smile back, getting cozy in bed. Sanji watches you, turning back around when your head finally hits the pillow. It's not long until you're out, your soft snores falling on his ears while he watches the night sky.